Who am I?
by Spyder1070
Summary: 2D and Cortez team up, to save Murdoc from himself. Read on to find out why.
1. Who am I?

Lying on his back on the floor outside the bathroom, Murdoc holds his aching crotch and stares up at the ceiling, while listening to the quiet sounds of Kong. Once again the old Bassist had accidentally made the mistake of surprising Noodle coming out of the bathroom, while he had been playing his favourite game of 'Murder in the Dark'. Thinking he was a burglar or something similar, the tiny Japanese girl had struck first, lunging at him and kicking him viciously in the crotch. He closes his eyes and rolls onto his side, deciding that the next time he played his game, he was going to wear the padded crotch guard he'd worn for the 'Rock the House' video. He winces and presses his hands harder against his groin, listening to the sound of water dripping, echoing from the bathroom. The wind outside howls against the side of the large grey building, making the windows groan a little as it presses against the glass. Murdoc lifts his head from the floor and cranes back his neck, trying to look up at the window behind him. Knowing he can't stay on the floor all night, he slowly begins to sit up, trying to shift the weight around and not putting too much strain on his aching _'love pouch'._ Reaching back with a clawed hand and grabbing hold of the window sill, he slides himself across the floor, closer to the window so he can take a quick look outside.

The wind howls against the window again, spraying it with a fine mist of rain that accumulates together into droplets that slowly run like little rivers, pooling at the bottom of the frame, before dripping onto the grey concrete lintel underneath. Murdoc's warm breath forms a fog on the icy glass and he reaches forwards, wiping the haze away with the back of his arm and clearing his view. He shuffles closer to the window and turns his body to it, gently easing himself up onto his knees for a better vantage point. Pressing the side of his face against the window, he's surprised by how icy cold the glass feels against his cheek. It almost makes him pull away again, but he manages to ignore it and tries to catch a glimpse of the left corner of the building, from where he is. Although it is the middle of the night and pitch black outside, the full moon is just bright enough to illuminate the back of the massive thunder clouds that blanket the sky. Not a single star can be seen and occasionally a hint of lighting flashes in the distance, glowing like sheets of light coloured linen, deep inside the clouds and making the edges of them stand out against the cold black filled sky. Murdoc pulls his face from the glass and turns his head, pressing the other side of his face to the now warmer glass and again, peering out to look at the other corner of the building. The view this side is no better, if anything it's darker, giving the Bassist the impression that the storm is approaching them. He pulls his face back once more and cups his hands to the window, looking through the shaded gap his hands make, straight ahead towards the driveway at the very front of the old building, trying to catch a look at the trees that stand next to it. Thinking that if he can see the direction the trees bend as the wind blows against them he'd know if the storm had passed, or was on the way. But he finds that it's just too dark to see and his breath fogs the window again anyway. Pulling his hands and face away from the window again, he slumps back, resting his buttocks on his heels as he looks down at the floor. The distraction had made him forget about the pain in his groin at least, and now the pain had subsided enough for him to make an attempt to stand up.

Once again the old man grips the window sill with a clawed hand, using it as leverage to pull himself up off his knees and place his feet, one by one under him. A small shock of pain darts down his thighs, but it's not so bad that he can't handle it, so he ignores it until finally he is up on both feet. Still hunched over and a little afraid to fully straighten up, he rests his weight against the window sill as he instinctively continues to cradle his groin with one hand. Cursing the tiny guitarist under his breath, he slowly begins to straighten up. Little by little, with his body still tense and unsure if the pain truly had stopped, until finally he is once again back at full height. The Bassist closes his eyes and breathes out slowly, almost as if he'd been holding that one breath the whole time he'd been lying there on the floor. Just then the window behind him rattles, making him catch his breath again and look over his shoulder at it. Letting his feet take the weight from the sill, he turns around again and faces the window, watching the clouds brighten a little as a sheet of lightning flashes inside them. This answers his question from before about the storm, as it was now apparent it had been coming closer after all. But the old man doesn't care about that any more, so he shrugs and turns away from the window.

At first gingerly, but with mounting confidence, he steps away and walks down the corridor to the door at the other end. The sounds of the still sleeping Kong seem a little louder to him now that he'd stopped paying attention to the growing storm outside, and as he moves along he listens more to them. Arriving at the door he reaches out with his hand and presses down on the handle, pulling it open and travelling through it with hardly any hesitation at all. Somewhere in the distance, deep inside the building, the old man hears an unfamiliar sound. A strange whining, followed by a sharp, almost metallic sounding click. Given he had spent many nights wandering the dimly lit halls of the haunted studio, all of the sounds were well known to him and each had been thoroughly investigated. This was something new, and on hearing it, it had made him stop walking and now he was standing there thinking about it. Raising an unseen eyebrow under his thick fringe, he rests most of his weight on one hip and scratches at the stubble on his chin with a long talon. Listening for the sound again he tries to work out, with what he had heard, if there was anything at all familiar about it. But it soon becomes obvious that he'd been too shocked by it to take it in. So he half laughs to himself and moves on, assuming he might of even imagined it altogether. As he moves further away from the door, he hears the strange sound again and freezing mid step, looks up into the direction it seemed to have come from. Remaining frozen to the spot like a statue, he strains to block out every other noise in the building. Focusing all of his attention to the task, as he waits for the sound again. But the sound doesn't come and the old man relaxes again, not sure if he should just ignore it and go to bed, or wait a little longer and track down it's source. He suddenly remembers he'd left his machete back in the corridor outside the toilets, so he quickly turns and marches back there to retrieve it. Back at the spot, he sees it lying on the floor, glinting in the light that flashes from the storm outside. The wind was really howling now, as the storm had built in strength. Murdoc leans down and reaches for the weapon, just as he once again hears that strange sound. The suddenness of it makes him jerk his hand back a little, but determined to track it down he starts a count in his mind. He snatches up the weapon and marches back down the corridor, slamming open the door. Reaching the lobby and stopping by the desk, he hears the sound again and stops counting. He moves over to the desk and sitting down on it, he starts the count again in an attempt to work out if the sound was coming at regular intervals.

The Demon at the desk grimaces at the Bassist and growls softly, angry at him for sitting on, what the creature considered to be, _'his property._' It leans forwards, slowly opening it's jaws wide with it's mouth full of razor sharp teeth, fully prepared to bite down on the Bassists behind as punishment for sitting so close to it. But just as it gets close enough to clamp it's teeth down on him, the old mans stale mixture of foul odours seem to reach out and embrace the small Demons entire head. The creature chokes and gags, flinching back into it's chair, spitting and hissing about it's predicament with disgust. It begins frantically waving one clawed hand in front of it's face, while tightly clamping the other over it's mouth and nose. Tears prickle at the corners of it's eyes and it shakes it's head from side to side, trying to avoid the pungent array of smells. Disturbed by the small red Demons antics and complaints, the Bassist looks back over his shoulder at it with a growl, while continuing the slow count in his head. The vicious creature ignores him as it reaches down and slams open a drawer with one hand still clamped across it's face. It rummages around in the now open drawer desperately searching for something, with Murdoc counting and watching curiously. It's hand suddenly emerges with a canister of air freshener and before Murdoc can react it spray him liberally on the back with it, making the old man leap off the desk and move away.

"You little bastard. Cut that out!" Murdoc snaps, pulling at his shirt and trying to see where he'd been sprayed. The shirt is a little damp, but Murdoc is more annoyed at being treated so disrespectfully, than in any damage that may have occurred. He raises the machete and threatens to swing it out at the small creature, who finally stops spraying and looks angrily at him. Not really afraid of the old man, but not quite willing to push him any further either. Giving the Bassist a defiant sneer, it tosses the canister back into the drawer and slams it closed again. Murdoc shakes his head in annoyance at it and looks away down towards the alcove. Only then does he realize he'd forgotten his place in the count and swearing under his breath, he waits for the sound again so he can start over. He steps back to the desk and goes to sit down again, but the little Demon jerks forwards as if about to open the drawer again and once again retrieve the canister of spray. Murdoc baulks sharply and steps away again, moving around it with a sharp hiss as he steadily eyes the little creature. It hisses back, keeping his eyes on the old man and hand poised ready to slam open the drawer at the first sign of trouble from him. Murdoc tips his head to his shoulder slightly, as if daring the creature to do something. It mimics the look and juts out it's chin with a grunt. Just as Murdoc is about to step forwards and take the little creature on in battle, the sound echoes through the room and he instantly turns towards it and forgets the little creature altogether. Counting again he follows the direction it seemed to come from, leaving the little Demon at the desk smiling confidently and chuckling at him in triumph.

Heading to the car park door as this seemed to be where the sound might have originated, Murdoc steadily moves through the filthy damp smelling corridor. Brandishing the weapon before him and crouching low, as if ready to pounce at anything that might suddenly leap from the darkness and attack him. Murdoc breathes softly as his eyes dart here and there around the room, watching the walls and the dark corners carefully for movement. He finally reaches the end of the short corridor and steps carefully to the door, flexing his grip on the handle of the machete and continuing to move his eyes rapidly around the small area. Once sure everything was in place, he leans on the door handle and begins to press open the door. Hearing the sound again he rapidly steps out into the car park and lets the heavy door close behind him. Restarting the count as he moves through the large area, he looks around at all the cars the band members had collected and for a moment, finds himself comparing the strange sound to one he'd heard outside Noodle's bedroom door. The stuck elevator made a very similar sound, but he soon draws the conclusion they aren't quite the same. The stuck elevator's motor would whine up, making a noise similar to a jet engine, as it strains to move the stuck car. The cables would groan as they stretched tight and the motor would begin to drone loudly and steadily, until finally giving a metal click, it would begin to whine down again and move back into a kind of standby mode. The cars around him seem to stand like sentinels at the many sounds in the large bunker like room. The sound from Murdocs stereo booms around the area closest to the door and the Bassist moves further away from it, so he can hear the rest of the room more clearly. One of the many cars seems to have a faulty alarm and every now and then would whistle loudly before finally stopping again, leaving only the music droning away in the background. Murdoc moves further amongst the cars as he counts and continues listening, convinced he must be heading in the right direction, as it had become more and more clearer and distinctive as he'd got closer to the car park.

Water drips from the ceiling in one of the darker corners of the room, the steady splat as it pools somewhere on the ground unseen, makes the old man raise an eyebrow at it and move towards it. He'd meant to check that leak many times before, but had always somehow forgotten about it until he'd eventually heard it again. The odd sound whines and clicks again, distracting him from the dripping water and making him look back towards the hole in the car park wall. The hole leads to Kong's lift shaft and down into the corridors and bunker rooms far below the old building, running like a maze deep inside the mountain. He quickly makes his way back past the rows of cars and steps through the hole in the wall, carefully picking a path through the rubble to look around the alcove inside.

The area just inside the hole is very dimly lit in a soft blue light. It's difficult to see and the old man has to strain hard and carefully pick his way towards the lift and shaft itself. The shaft is huge and it's walls are made of thick concrete, the rail for the lift disappears into the darkness just a few meters down and makes any journey down to the bunkers seem ominous and the rider wish for much better lighting conditions. Not that there was a lot to see in the shaft, apart from the concrete walls, pipes and wiring. The lift platform seems large enough to park a small car on if one wished to, surrounded by a metal railing that at first glance seems a little on the thin side, to offer too much in the way of protection. The only consolation seemed to be that it was so large, it didn't seem like anyone would have reason to have lean against the railing. Of course in retrospect you would kick yourself for the assumption, as inevitably someone would lean against it, causing it to break accidentally and leaving the unfortunate person to fall to their death far below. Insurance companies would become involved, lawsuits would follow, and in the end, you just know someone will have to post a sign. The railing at the front of the platform stops, leaving a gap by which to gain entry and on either side of the gap sit two revolving blue lights. This of course being the explanation for the alcove's lighting condition. Just to one side of the gap is the lift's control panel and attached to that is another revolving light, but yellow rather than blue and at the moment appears not to be switched on. Murdoc moves though the gap and onto the platform, the blue light catching the side of the old man's face, making it look more menacing, angular and skull like. He listens to the revolving mechanism of the lights for a moment, but instantly dismisses them as a candidate for the unusual sound, moving over to the very edge of the platform to look down into the depths of the shaft itself. Taking the railing in one hand he shoulders the machete and leans over the edge, showing that although the railing might look flimsy, it apparently is strong enough to hold a person's weight after all. The sound echoes it's way up from the inky depths below him and bounces around the room, Murdoc follows it upwards with his eyes, staring hard into the darkness high above him at the very top of the shaft. He looks back down again and moves to the control panel, reaching out with a talon and pressing the down button to begin the lift's journey down to the bunker rooms themselves. The yellow light suddenly springs to life and helps to guide the way down into the darkness. Not as well as one would like, but good enough to at least make the ride a little more comfortable. Not that Murdoc seems to notice, as he begins digging under one of his filthy talons with the tip of the machete. He doesn't even really seem to pay much attention to the fact that the lights only shine on his fingers for a short time as they revolve around. Instead of looking he feels his way under the nail carefully, using the pressure the blade makes on his skin as a guide to how deep to dig under it. Listening to the sound the blade makes as it scrapes against the dirt and rasps along under the nail, similar to one if Murdoc was to scrape them down a chalk board. He glances up for a moment, as the lift gets close to the end of it's journey. Not quite a direct path straight down, the shaft angles at a point close to the very bottom and the platform itself tilts to compensate for the change of direction. It reaches that spot in the shaft and groans as the tilt mechanism is engaged, finally the light from the bunker itself begins to spill over the platform's edge almost blinding the old man for a moment as it reaches his face. He lifts his arm to shade his eyes and squints around his fingers to the area before him, waiting for the lift to come to a complete stop before he continues searching.

Finally the lift stops and the yellow light shuts off again, no longer needed as the bunker is much better lit than the shaft itself had been. Jumping down and stepping away from the lift, the Bassist first looks one way, then down the other as he steps further into the corridor itself, wondering which direction it would be best to travel in as he continues his search for the source of the strange noise. Not completely willing to walk off in the wrong direction and have to come back, but not entirely happy about standing in the one place for too long in the bunker. He scratches at his chin with one long talon, as he slowly looks at the boar's head above the door of the room of "Brians", thinking if he just moved slowly down towards that corner and didn't get too far ahead of himself, he at least wouldn't have to come back too far. So he slowly goose steps in that general direction, nudging shredded paper work aside with the toe of his boot and gracefully side stepping around the laundry hamper, as he listens for the sound again. Further down and past the food store, which is almost directly opposite the room of "Brians", the corridor continues down to a corner veering off to the right. Against the wall leans an old trestle table, against which is a relatively new looking AK47 assault rifle. Murdoc continues slowly high stepping towards the corner and right on cue he finally hears the strange sound again. He smiles as it turns out he was heading in the right direction after all, and marches directly to the corner and turns down it.

Negotiating over a few toppled filing cabinets, the old man looks up again as he thinks about what the noise could possibly be. This particular corridor splits off in the middle, heading in two directions. Straight ahead of him is a large heavy white door, that leads into the boiler room. The other corridor leads down to another series of rooms, none of which Murdoc had ever found particularly interesting. _'Convenient... Just not interesting.'_ He thinks as he taps the machete against his thigh. Next to him and almost to his immediate left is a life sized, solid gold statue of Vlad Tepes. To his immediate right is a ladder with a dead Nazi officer standing on it. Just down from that and along the same wall is another store room. Murdoc wonders if perhaps that was where the sound was coming from, thinking he 'hadn't been in there for a long time, so who knows what had been going on in there?' He looks up to the ceiling and follows the line of exposed pipes and wiring leading down towards the boiler room, almost becoming impatient enough to just walk into the store room and start searching. He manages to fight the urge and once again goes back to goose stepping as he waits for the sound.

"Ein, zwie, drie Heil! Ich bein eine Berliner!" He jokes as he pretends to be one of the dead Nazi officers. The sound echoes again and the old man once again marches firmly, this time towards the white boiler room door.

Behind the door Murdoc immediately slaps his hands over his ears, as the pipes bang and clatter loudly overhead. Knowing it would be absolutely impossible to hear the noise in this room, he looks up to the other door and quickly makes his way across to it. Deciding that if he went in the Hell-hole room and shut the door, he might have a better chance of hearing it again. Stepping into the room and slamming the door shut, he quickly places his ear to the door and listens. The pulsing light from the Hell-hole in the middle of the floor, casts eerie shadows round the walls and over the old man's back. The room itself is quiet, aside from an occasional hiss from the hole, so the old mans knows it should be easy to track down the noise if it turned out to have come from the room he was now standing in. Murdoc is concentrating so hard on listening for the sound, that he doesn't see the dark shadow that looms up from the hole and passing first across the walls, eventually stops and settles on his back.

"Well hello there." Comes an oddly familiar voice from behind the Bassist, it's so familiar that it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The Bassist stands up much straighter and spins round to face the voice, holding out the machete and preparing to defend himself. Instantly his jaw drops and he stares wide-eyed and shocked at the Hell-hole as he finds, unbelievably, another _"Murdoc"_ is floating high above it looking down at him. The Bassist steps forwards still gripping the machete tightly in his hand and refusing to drop his guard, studies his floating duplicate. Not quite sure if he's dreaming, or if perhaps the fumes from the Hell-hole are maybe affecting him? He takes another tentative step forwards and stops at the top of the small staircase that drops down into the room itself. The duplicate Murdoc grins evilly at him, enjoying the shocked look his presence had made on the Bassist's face. The old man snarls and holds the machete out at the duplicate, making sure it knows he's not playing games and if necessary, had no problem using it. But unperturbed at having the old man waving the weapon at him, he yawns at it and does his best to appear bored at the whole idea. This just makes Murdoc confused and he straightens up again and scratches the back of his head.

"Okaaay? Now how did I...? I mean you...? Actually, I have no idea at all what I mean? But I do know that this world just ain't big enough fer two Murdocs. So however I did that? I'm just going to have to undo it." He smiles evilly and points his machete back at it. The duplicate chuckles at him and folds it's arms over it's chest.

"Now what makes you think YOU did this? And although I agree that there is not enough room for the both of us. I was assuming yyyyyou'd be nice enough to just pop into this hole here, annnd bugger off fer good." It slurs with a defiant sneer, pointing down at the hole before floating over and alighting on the bottom step below the old man. Murdoc hisses angrily at the idea and grinds his teeth, still brandishing his machete before him.

"Oh fuck off. ME?! Yer the one wearin' the poncey white trousers. Wwwwhy don't YOU, climb back down into that hole and get some fashion tips from someone other than Andy Warhol?" He snaps, and sees that for just a brief second the duplicates smile flinches. "I have a reputation to uphold here, so yer gunna have to goooo." He adds with a distinctive drawl. The duplicate looks first down at his trousers then back up to the old man on the top step, his smile disappears completely, replaced by a ferocious angry grimace.

"What the fuck is wrong with white trousers?! I personally think they accentuate my already accentuated assets." He growls, pointing at his crotch with a taloned finger. Murdoc rolls his eyes and grips the machete handle a little tighter.

"MY assets you mean! And I still wouldn't be seen dead in that get up. So stop stallin' and getcher scrawny Demon arse back in that hole!" He growls back, pointing at the hole with the machete. The duplicate turns his head slightly and looks back over his shoulder at the hole, before turning back to the old man and folding his arms defiantly over his chest holds it's head up high with brilliant confidence.

"Make me." He grins. His eyes flash and burn brightly, brighter than the fires that burn down in the hole behind him. Murdoc grimaces and clenches his jaw, knowing that this duplicate had absolutely no intention of doing what it was told. If it was him, he wouldn't do it either. It watches him hesitate for a moment, before dropping it's chin to it's chest and gazing at him from under it's fringe, it's eyes still burning brightly. Murdoc realises he'd paused for too long and had given the duplicate the upper hand. So a much more physical approach would be needed to get his point across. Gritting his teeth hard, he gives it an equally ferocious look and presses his weight back on his heels.

"FINE!" He snarls, lunging forwards and attempting to push the creature backwards into the hole. But the duplicate knew he would try something like this, and was fully prepared for the reaction. Gracefully and without even the slightest amount of effort, it steps sideways and out of the way of the old man. Suddenly there is nothing but thin air between the Bassist and the Hell-hole, and he topples awkwardly down the stairs towards the hole. At the last second he manages to stop just on the edge of it, flailing his arms in wide arching windmills, he tries to pick up enough momentum to pull his unbalanced weight back from the brink of tipping over and dropping head first into the hole. The impostor yawns as if bored, and turns to watch the old man struggle with his odd balancing act. It grins evilly and reaches out with a taloned finger, pressing it into the Bassists back, and with just a gentle nudge, sends him over the edge and head first into the hole.

"ARRGGHH! You utter bastaaaaaaaard!" Murdoc screeches as he plummets down into the fiery depths of the hole. The impostor looks over the edge at the rapidly disappearing Bassist and smiles, making a show of dusting off it's hands. It drops it's chin to it's chest and chuckles to itself, before gracefully diving into the hole to 'finish the old man off', so it could take over his role as Murdoc Faust Niccals. Down in the fiery depths the two Murdocs fight fiercely, the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and the crunching and cracking of bone against bone, echoes around the Hell-hole room for what seems like hours. The sound stops and silence follows, after a short moment a hand shoots from the hole and scrabbles at the edge, digging it's bloodied and bruised fingers into the soil and trying to get enough leverage to pull the rest of itself out.

Murdoc wakes the next morning and shivers in the cold air of the Winnie. He sits up and rolls onto his side, reaching for a packet of cigarettes and sliding one from the pack, before pulling back the blankets and walking down to the toilet as he lights up the cigarette. He hums quietly to himself as he circles the bowl with a steady stream of urine, watching it splash it's way around the bowl, before finishing and tucking his genitals away again. He briefly looks at the wounds on his knuckles, before continuing on his way to the far end of the Winnie to finish off the Scotch he'd started drinking after his fight in the Hell-hole room. Passing the zombie lady, their eyes meet for a brief second and she sees something strange in them. Something she had never really seen before in all the time she'd known the horrible green skinned man. His eyes seemed to be burning. She cringes away from him, terrified by what she could see and he turns his head slightly back at her annoyed.

"Now what the fuck is wrong with you, ya moron?" He snarls, but doesn't really want or expects an answer. He settles down in the passenger seat and unscrews the lid from the bottle, tipping back his head and swigging on the contents quickly. He drops his head slightly and looks at the zombie lady as he drinks, making sure she understood the situation she is in. Not that he needed to tell her as she more than understood the consequences of disloyalty.

Outside the Winnie, 2D is walking from his bedroom with a bag of rubbish. He approaches the bin near the door and is about to lift the lid, when he sees a piece of material poking out from behind the metal cover on the air vent right next to the corridor door. Curious he drops the bag on the ground and pulls off the metal cover for a closer look. He reaches inside and retrieves what had been blocking the vent and holds the object up so he can see. A reasonably new looking pair of white trousers.

"Ewww, retro." He grimaces and gingerly drops them into the bin, placing his rubbish bag on top, he squashes down the lot and replaces the lid. Heading back to his room without a second thought.


	2. Victims and Victors

2D wakes one morning, and from the moment he slides out from under the bedclothes, things start to go wrong. First of all, he steps on something sharp, and cuts the side of his foot. Then, as he is searching his side table drawer for a sticky plaster, he somehow manages to close the drawer on his hand, trapping his fingers. Finally bandaged, he sighs and heads out of his room to the lobby, but as he's opening the door at the other end, slams it against his already injured foot.

"I know I'm clumsy, but this is jus' getting' silly." he complains under his breath, as he's nursing his painfully throbbing foot. He makes it all the way to the kitchen without further incident, and smiles confidently to himself, thinking it was going to be alright now. But as he opens the door to the refrigerator, a bottle of milk falls out, and smashes to the floor at his feet, spraying milk everywhere. He slowly lowers his gaze to the floor, and watches the milk pooling round his feet. A ball of anger slowly growing in the pit of his stomach. Muttering to himself, he kneels down and begins to pick up the shards of broken glass from the floor. The keyboardist is almost finished, when suddenly he's struck by a sharp stabbing sensation in his knee.

"Argh, shhhhhh,ugar." he winces painfully, clutching his shin as he drops his weight back onto his buttocks. Slowly and painfully he presses himself forward, and looks at the piece of glass sticking out of his knee. Biting his lip as he grabs it between his fingertips, he gently eases it out, pushing back the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Once out he shakes his head sharply and sniffles, tossing the offending shard in the bin behind him. Then using the edge of the counter top to brace himself, struggles to his feet. Not wanting to look at his knee again, and check the wound, the younger man grabs the nearby mop, and begins cleaning up the spill.

All done, he can finally think about breakfast, but just as he turns to face the cupboard, he's hit by the notion that he really isn't very hungry any more. So he sighs and limps over to the sink, grabbing a glass and a nearby bottle of Scotch instead. Hopping back to the table and sliding a chair out, he's only just sat down when the door opens and Murdoc walks in, looking more dark faced than ever. The keyboardist hardly takes the expression on the bassist's face in. More intent on pouring himself a large drink, he twists off the top and begins to bring the neck of the bottle to the glass. Murdoc almost seems to slide across the room like a wraith. Snatching the bottle from the young man's fingers, before any of the liquid manages to spill into the glass.

"I need this more than you." he snaps gruffly, dropping back his head and sculling the contents loudly, as he turns on his heel and marches from the room again. 2D blinks at the exiting old man blankly, before turning his attention back to his empty glass. For a moment his brain finds it difficult to comprehend. He leans over and checks his glass again, thinking that possibly he'd imagined that. But finds the glass is still empty. Just to be sure, he picks it up and upends it, shaking it a few times, and looking inside once more. Finally he returns it to the table and slides it away from himself, gruffly folding his arms over his chest and angrily looking at the closed kitchen door.

"Well'w so long as you ain' put out then." he quietly grumbles, although there is no way for the old man to hear him.

By the end of the day, the keyboardist has somehow managed to bump, scrape, graze and bruise himself, in almost every way conceivable. Oddly enough, Murdoc has been no where to be seen. Usually the bassist would have been responsible for at least a third of the young man's injuries, but this time it seemed the younger man had done it all to himself. He quietly sits on a chair in the lobby, and looks over all of his wounds carefully, considering the idea that perhaps he should _"go tah bed before I kill meself, or sumfink?" _He presses himself to his feet, and with a sigh, limps off in the direction of the car park.

As he steps into the open area beside the old bassist's wagon, he spies something move out of the corner of his eye, and looks up. Sitting on the floor in the open door of the Winnie, is Murdoc. Quietly drinking from a bottle of Rum. The old man looks over as 2D steps further round the corner, and gazes blankly at him. But doesn't respond. He instead turns his attention back to his cigarette, and takes a long drag. The young man shrugs and limps towards his own room without comment. But before he's taken just a few steps, the old man calls out to him.

"What's wrong with you? You have a face on you like a smacked arse." adding a sarcastic chuckle and taking another swig from his bottle. 2D stops dead, his anger building and his fists balling tightly. The skin white over his knuckles and his face a deep angry purple. The days events race through his mind, the old man's attitude in the kitchen, and now the final word. All boiling and bubbling deep inside his gut. He snaps and turns around sharply to face the bassist, grinding his teeth and flexing his fingers.

"Look you 'orrible green maggot! I've had enough of yah name callin' and insults! I've had a righ' 'orrible day, and I don' need you sittin there, like some festerin' ol' toad, tellin' me wotcha fink I look like. So why don' you take yah stinkin' opinion, yah wrinkly old arse, yah sewer for a mind. Not tah mention yah demoniacally possessed nut sack. And go fuck yahself!" 2D screeches, at the now very surprised old man.

Murdoc jerks away from the furious younger man, eyes wide with shock at his sudden outburst, not quite sure if he should respond to that or not. He watches the twitch at the corner of 2D's eye for a few seconds, and thinks carefully about what the young man had screeched. His mind carefully calculating the moment, second by second, until he comes to the conclusion that now would not be very beneficial to him. Not that he was scared of 2D's reaction, certainly. But because the impact would be lost on the furious young man.

"_Better wait till he's not expectin' it. Then it would really hurt." _he thinks to himself as he relaxes his posture again. 2D grimaces in fury, and because the old man doesn't react, isn't sure what to do about it. He gives in and waves him off, turning back and heading off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Cortez had been sitting on the roof of the Winnie, quietly watching the young man's explosion. Now that all seemed safe again, the bird flits down and lands on the old man's knee. He looks from the bassist, to the younger man's room, cawing softly. Something had been bothering him about the old man all day, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Inside, his bird brain had been whispering the thought that this was not his master. But from the look and the smell of the figure, it was hard to understand why it couldn't be? Who else could possibly smell like him? Even homeless people didn't give off the same number of pungent aromas. They actually smelt reasonably pleasant in comparison. So why did he keep thinking this wasn't his master?

"That was unexpected?" Murdoc announces suddenly, snapping Cortez from his thoughts and causing the bird to turn his head sharply to look at him. The old man chuckles and leans back, resting his weight on his elbows, and looking steadily at the dark bird on his knee. Cortez studies the glimmer in the old man's eyes, that same thought once again rushing back at him. _"This isn't my master." _

"Betcha he kept watchin' that stupid 'Lost' show. Even after I told him it'd got ridiculous. That demented plot line would make anybody loose their rag." he adds quietly, sitting forward again and gripping the edge of the door frame. Cortez flaps quickly as the old man gets to his feet, flitting forwards and landing on his shoulder as the bassist moves to close the door. Regardless as to whether or not this impostor was his master, spending a night alone in the car park was certainly not something the bird wanted to do. The old man takes one last look towards 2D's room, as he steps back from closing door.

"I'll get him." he sneers.

The next morning finds 2D lying wide eyed, in bed. Not able to sleep all night, he'd been lying there staring blankly at the ceiling, thinking about all the things he'd said to the old man. He still couldn't quite believe he'd actually shouted at him. But the look on the bassist's face had said it all.

"He's gunna kill me." he croaks with a gulp.

Rolling onto his side and pulling his knees up to his chest, he begins to imagine some of the terrible things the old man might have in store for him, making himself even more scared than before. He suddenly shudders and presses his hands between his thighs, shutting his eye holes tightly and trying to stop thinking about them again. But it was all in vain. The day had arrived and facing Murdoc was inevitable. Whether he think about it or not.

"Actually?" he suddenly says, snapping his eyes open. "I wonder why he hasn' already?" He lifts his head a little and stares at his locked bedroom door, imagining the old man suddenly kicking it in, wielding a huge chainsaw. This startles him and he snaps his eye holes closed again, with a frightened squeak. But nothing happens, so he carefully opens one eye again, looking about the room. Realizing he'd just scared himself, he smiles weakly and chuckles. "Gotta stop doin' tha' tah meself. It's bad enuff tha' Muds does it." His stomach tightens suddenly as his bladder sends an urgent message to him. 2D winces and presses his fists into his groin, not wanting to answer the call just yet.

"Jus' lay heya a little longer I fink." he mutters. "No reason tah go rushin' off tah me deaf, or nufink." he adds painfully as his bladder tightens even further. He sucks a quick short breath, but knows he can't win this battle. He's just going to have to leave the safety of his room eventually. The thought of wetting himself and Murdoc finding out, springs to mind. How Murdoc works these things out, is beyond the younger man. But somehow he always seemed to manage to. _'And humili... humil.... hu....? Laugh at me about it.' _He sighs and quickly slips from the bed, racing to his door and grabbing at his dressing gown, as he does a strange little jiggling dance. Fumbling with the lock and practically kicking open the door in urgency.

Sitting at the table in the Winnie, Murdoc looks up sharply as he hears 2D's door slam open. He grunts to himself and gently pulls the curtain aside, just in time to see the younger man sharply pull open the door near his wagon, and race down the hall to the lobby.

"Hmmm? Nah, now I wonder where he's off to in such a hurry?" he smiles with a chuckle, knowing that the keyboardist was probably intending to avoid running into him. The old man lets the curtain fall back into place, and leans back on his chair. He'd been thinking about the incident himself, most of the night. In between bottles of alcohol, and trips back and forth to the Winnie's toilet. Thoughts and plans of what to do about it, had been plentiful. But no specific thing had really taken his fancy. He'd pretty much done everything possible to the young man before. And an outburst like that, warranted some new torture to be introduced. _'But what?'_ Was the question that had kept him up all night. He tips the bottle of rum he's holding, towards his waiting lips, and pauses as another thought lazily passes through his evil mind. But he hardly allows himself time to really review it, before letting it slip away again. Deciding it just wasn't good enough. Finally taking a swig from the bottle, he reaches out to Cortez, who is sitting on the back of the seat nearby, ruffling the bird's head feathers gently. Cortez pulls his head sharply away and pecks at the old man's fingers. Not wanting to be touched by what he now is certain, is a stranger. Murdoc drops the bottle from his mouth and pulls his hand away from the angry birds beak, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, yeah. But the sooner you git over it, the better off you'll be. Yah dumb bird." the bassist growls, sucking at one of his knuckles. He'd noticed the way the raven had been eying him all night, and it hadn't taken him long to realize the bird knew he wasn't the real Murdoc. But what could the raven do? Tell someone? He smiles and stands up, finishing the last swallow of liquid from the bottle, before placing it down on the table. Adjusting his trousers and cupping himself, the old man makes his way to the door. "Better go and say good mornin' to the idiot." he announces, more to himself than Cortez. But he turns and takes one look over to the bird, hoping somehow to win it over. Cortez briefly turns and looks back, but ruffles his feathers in annoyance, and caws angrily in response. The doppleganger gives in and presses open the door with a shrug, deciding to leave the bird to it's frustration. The raven watches as the door closes behind the old man, and almost seems to slump sadly on the back of the chair. Despite his masters smell, he actually missed the old man. And although this impostor looked exactly like him, there was no replacing him. Cortez looks out the front window of the wagon, as the mini fridge clicks and whines in the background, breaking the silence of the room. Murdoc wouldn't of left him alone like that. Not the real Murdoc. His master would of encouraged him to come out and fly around, complaining about him _'gettin' fat and lazy.'_ But saying it with a smile in his eyes. Cortez caws softly and slumps even further. Wondering if his real master, would ever come back to him?

2D is in the bathroom, and has just finishing washing his hands, when Murdoc opens the door and steps in. Stiffening sharply, the keyboardist tries not to look startled as the old man stops in the doorway, and eyes him in an almost hungry way. The younger man reaches out and shuts off the water, clearing his throat and wiping his wet hands down the front of his dressing gown. _'Maybe if I pretend like I don' remember wot I did...? Or sumfink?'_ he thinks, turning his eyes to look at the old man.

"Mah, mornin' Boss." he stammers, then mentally kicks himself at sounding so nervous. The old man grunts a response and finally moves from the door towards him. 2D closes his eyes and braces for impact, flinching slightly as the old man's hand drops onto his shoulder. _'Well'w, it woz a good life.... Some of it, anyway.'_ he thinks and grimaces.

"Yeah, whatever Faceache." Murdoc growls as he continues on to the toilets. Hearing one of the cubical doors slam shut, 2D snaps his eyes open again and looks about frantically. _'Huh?' _he splutters to himself. The old man wasn't beating him up? _'Did he forget what I'd said the night before?'_ he wonders, looking towards the toilets, as he hears the sound of Murdoc urinating, echoing around the room.

"Um, Muds?" he calls to the old man, wringing his hands tightly.

"What!?" the bassist snaps back.

"Are yah, okay? Do ya like need anyfink... or sumfink?" he replies, scratching his arm in confusion, not quite sure if he'd said that right?

"What? Err, no. Fine thanks.... Yer not offerin' to come in here and help me take a piss I hope? Coz if you are, I'm gunna get really upset you know?" Murdoc calls back. 2D blinks hard at the wall in front of him, as the old man's words search his brain for a cell to translate them. Suddenly aware of what the bassist was suggesting, 2D furrows his brow and gruffly folds his arms over his chest.

"Nooo. I'm jus'....? That's not right. Yah shouldn' say fings like that." he complains angrily. Murdoc chuckles and flushes the toilet, stepping from the cubical and walking back over to the slightly fuming keyboardist. He looks down and checks his fly, then looks back up at the young man.

"Weeeeell, whaddya expect? I'm standin' in there, holdin' me cock in me hand. And yer out here offerin' assistance. Moron." he smiles, and before 2D can react, pats him on the cheek. 2D lurches away from him disgusted, and frantically wipes at his face with his sleeve.

"Ewwwww. I 'ope that wozn' tha 'and you woz usin'?" he squeaks, turning sharply back to the sink and slamming on the water again. Murdoc stops and watches 2D frantically scrub his face with warm water. Then with a half grin, looks down at both of his hands in turn.

"Nnnnot sure? Might'a been?" he answers, then steps from the room. Leaving 2D further disgusted and scrubbing his face even more furiously than before, as he makes hacking noises and complains about odd non-existent tropical diseases. The old man decides to head out to the balcony for some peace and quiet, to think further about how to punish 2D for his outburst from the night before.

Still confused as to why Murdoc hadn't beaten him up yet. But happy that whatever the reason, Murdoc wasn't beating him up. 2D eventually makes his way to the balcony, and joins the old man at the railing. In a way, he'd begun to feel secure in the thought, that either the old man had been far too drunk to remember, or was just not bothered by what he'd said. Still, he knew with Murdoc, you could never be too sure about anything. _'Sometimes he just turns and gets yah. Months, even weeks later. Like dat Ceri __Banana guy.... Or woteva his name woz?'_ he thinks, carefully eying the old man next to him. Murdoc doesn't turn to look at him, instead he continues to look out over the landfill, almost as if he hadn't noticed the young man was there. 2D sighs and grips the railing between his fingers, leaning his weight back on his heels and stretching his spine. Still Murdoc failed to acknowledge him, so 2D straightens up again and chews thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. _'Do I really want him tah notice me?'_ he asks himself. Deciding that he does, he clears his throat loudly.

"So anyway, I woz finkin'...?" he begins. Looking confidently out over the landfill himself.

"Were you?" Murdoc grunts calmly in response, but still not looking around at him. 2D pauses and tries to work out if there had been any hint of threat in the bassist's voice. Not really able to judge as yet, he continues.

"Um, yeah. I woz." he replies, his voice ever so slightly faltering, but still confident that things were okay.

"So was I. You know what I was thinkin' about?" Murdoc asks, still sounding quite calm and unmoved by 2D's presence. The young man watches quietly, as the old man slides a cigarette from the pack and places it between his sharp, shark-like teeth. Not sure what events would follow the bassist's question, he shakes his head slowly and waits to see what would follow. Murdoc takes his lighter from his back pocket, and lights the cigarette, not really giving any clue as to his manner or thinking. Stopping to blow a lazy smoke ring, as he replaces the lighter, and continues to look out at the landfill before him. 2D waits almost anxiously for an answer, biting his lip and wondering why the old man wasn't answering straight away. "Yer tantrum." he finally says with a deep gutteral growl. 2D stiffens sharply and grips the railing tighter in his hands.

"Oh. Um, yeah. About that, I ahhh? Didn' really mean mos' wot I said." he stammers nervously, shifting the weight on the balls of his feet.

"Most of what you said?!" Murdoc repeats sharply, finally turning around to face him. 2D moves ever so slightly away from him, sure this was the moment Murdoc would finally snap, and beat him up.

"I don' wanna be a Charlie Banana... I mean a bender? Thing....? Banana boat? Wait no, that's a song. Who?" he babbles, turning his body from the confused old man.

"You what?" Murdoc snarls, shaking his head and not even remotely sure he knew what the keyboardist was raving about. 2D looks back over his shoulder at the bassist and slowly straightens out.

"Yeah, that song wot woz in that movie? The one wif that guy wot looked like you, but it weren' you... Coz he woz dead, or sumfink? Bug Guts... or sumfink like...? Beetle.... Beedle? Jeramy Beedle? No, that's not right?" 2D scratches his head, trying to think what the name of the movie was. Not realising Murdoc was beginning to get really angry at him. The rage builds in the old man, and he begins to shake.

"Will you shut up!" Murdoc suddenly shouts, snapping 2D from his thoughts. The young man jumps and lurches away again with a high pitched squeak, hiding his head and bracing himself for impact. But Murdoc calms again, and turns back to the railing. Once again, 2D looks back at him, even more surprised at his reaction than ever. He takes a chance and decides to explain himself and his outburst from the night before.

"I did mean all. I woz angry wif yah, see? And wozn' really finkin' straigh', coz yah like, pick on me all'a time, and I gets real annoyed wif it." he states as firmly as he can. Murdoc turns and looks at him again, slitting his eyes and studying the changing expressions on the young man's face, as he switches from confident, to frightened, and back again.

"Awww, do I? You poor baby. What a horrible, mean person I am. Do yah wanna hug tah make yah feel all better?" Murdoc replies in baby talk, holding out his arms as if ready to embrace the confused keyboardist. 2D eyes him suspiciously, not sure whether to move or not. But the old man nods, and waves his hands into him, in an encouraging gesture. 2D smiles weakly and finally takes him up on the offer, dropping into the embrace and wrapping his arms about the old bassist's neck. Murdoc growls viciously and shoves him away again.

"Faggit!" he snaps, and slaps the young man, hard across the ear. Now more confused than ever, 2D flinches away, rubbing his ear. The old man spits on the floor at their feet and turns back to the railing, puffing furiously on his cigarette.

"I don't get it." 2D mutters, sliding further up the rail, and away from the old man.

"Back to last night. This is what I was thinkin' about. I'm gunna put what you said in a box. And put that box on a shelf. Butcha know what? I'm not gunna fergit it. Nooooo. I'm gunna store it. And if you ever say anthin' like that to me again? I am gunna take it, and what's in that box, and put yer idiotic arse, back in a coma. And you don't want me to do that. Know why? Coz while yer off in sleepy bye bye land. Nuthin's gunna stop me doin' whatever I want to you. And you don' even wanna know half the thing's I'm thinkin' about there. Got me?" Murdoc hisses. 2D's eyes widen with renewed fear, and he slides even further down the railing. Nodding furiously.

"No Boss. I mean yes Boss. I mean..." he stammers. Murdoc tosses the butt of his finished cigarette over the railing, and walks away.

"Shuddup." he drawls, and now very annoyed at the young man, retreats to the kitchen to find something to drink. The younger man watches the old man moving about in the room beyond, and furrows his brow.

"That woz....?" he pauses mid-thought and shakes his head. Although the threat and manner of the bassist was typical. Something about it all seemed to be slightly off key. "He should be beatin' me to a pulp right now?" he continues, screwing up his nose and turning away to face the landfill.

Not that I'm complainin' or nufink. But that's not.....? Murdoc?" he turns his head and looks back at the old man once more. "Well'w he is? But he ain', or sumfink? I dunno?" he finally shrugs, and turns his attention to the clouds overhead. Not realizing just how right he really was.


	3. Quoth the raven

A few days had passed, since 2D's outburst. Without much incident. And the more the young man had observed of the bassist and his behaviour. The more the feeling that something was not quite right with him grew. Just the day before he'd seen the old man's own pet raven, Cortez, peck him quite ferociously on the arm. As the bassist was trying to climb into his wagon. The keyboardist had begun to wonder from that moment, if perhaps even the raven was thinking the same thing as he.

"Murdoc, just ain' behavin' quite like Murdoc?"

The bassist had stuck to his usual schedule, and gone down the pub for the evening. Leaving the keyboardist alone to wander Kong, and think. Not that sticking to routine really told the young man everything was fine, and he was being silly about it all. It seemed to go much deeper than that, down into the very core of the man. The inner fire that was Murdoc Faust Niccals. Just didn't seem to be burning as bright. In fact, you could almost say his general nasty mood was pretty lack-lustre overall. One would assume that, that itself was a generous portion of what made the bassist who he was. So take that away, or shave a few grimy layers of it off, and what you have left over could not be called Murdoc Niccals. Someone trying to pass of a reasonable impression maybe.... Either way, 2D felt that although without Murdoc's usual intensity, he'd been able to apply himself to doing his own thing without interruption. Things just didn't feel right. And that left him feeling strangely uncomfortable. He'd become used to the tantrums, the name calling, the beatings and so forth. Now it almost seemed like Murdoc just couldn't be bothered with the keyboardist any more. The young man shivers at the thought, and opens a door. Wandering the lonely dark halls of Kong was definitely an experience. But without the threat of the bassist leaping out and scaring the pants off him... He sighs deeply and thrusts his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers. Childish maybe. But damn it, that's what made Muds, Muds!

He suddenly stops and looks up. With all the thinking, and wandering, he'd somehow found his way to Russel's room. Maybe the drummer had noticed the change in Murdoc to? The only way to be sure, was to ask. But how do you ask without sounding stupid? Or crazy? _'Or both?' _He certainly didn't want to go saying anything and have Russel laugh at him. After all, he did have a habit of zoning out and missing entire conversations. Many times he'd heard the tail end of something, and replied back in a way that he thought was meaningful. Only to find he'd slept through the important stuff, and completely missed the point of the entire conversation. _'I could ask in a kind'a vague way?'_ he thinks, raising his hand to knock on the door. But he's struck by the thought that maybe he had slept through something? Maybe he was reading something into Murdoc, that just wasn't there? He lowers his hand again, and turns away. Taking a few steps back down the corridor. He stops again and looks back at Russel's door. But what if he's wrong? What if this is important, and maybe Russel is seeing the same thing? Maybe Russel doesn't know how to express it to? Maybe he thinks he's the only one? '_If I tell him I see it to, then he won't feel alone.... Like I do.'_ He turns and walks back to the door. Once again raising his hand to knock. But what if he doesn't? Or hasn't? _'I will look righ' silly then.'_ He lowers his hand and walks away again. But if he doesn't ask, he'll never truly know? He turns and walks back again, this time determined to knock and just come out with it. _'Get it ova and done wif. Either way, I jus' gotta know.' _

"But wot if he don' believe me?" he suddenly asks himself, and once again lowers his hand.

"Why you pacin' at my door?" Russel's voice suddenly booms from somewhere behind him. 2D leaps back, spinning and slamming up against the door, clutching at his chest in fright.

"Don' do that! Scared me 'alf tah deaf." the keyboardist gasps, as Russel peels him off the door and nudges him aside. He watches the drummer open the door and walk inside, still trying to think of the best way to ask the large man, if he'd noticed Murdoc's odd behaviour. Sliding in behind him just as Russel closes the door, he gazes around the room, for a moment distracted. Russel slowly lumbers over to his bed, dropping bags of food on the floor, and heavily sits down. The bed creaks and groans loudly, but somehow manages not to break. Not that 2D notices. He's far too busy staring at the cigar stub, floating around in the lava lamp. Russel sighs heavily and looks over at the young man. Slightly annoyed that he'd invited himself in, but too tired to complain about it. 2D taps the lava lamp with a finger, snatching his hand back when the hot glass comes in contact with his skin.

"Wotchew wan' man?" the large man asks, as 2D sticks his finger in his mouth. The keyboardist looks around and for a moment his mind goes completely blank. The drummer recognizes the familiar look, and hangs his heavy head. Leaving the vague young man with the thought, he begins rummaging around in the bags at his feet.

"Oh yeah. Well'w yah see, I've been watchin' Muds for a couple days now right? An' like I know he's like all intense an' stuff. But like, I like him an' I know that lossa people find that like, wrong. But I don' really care.... An'way, for a few days now, every time I look at him, I get this righ' funny feelin..." the young man suddenly says. Russel stops and slowly raises his head. He gazes at the young man, standing in front of him wringing his hands, and equally as slow, raises a heavy eyebrow.

"Oh. Ah, okay? A funny feelin? But man, what's yo' funny feelin' gotta do wit' me? If'n yo ass feel dat way 'bout him. Den you gotta tell him.... Though,... I kin'a have a funny feelin' bout dat myself." Russel answers, not really sure he knew the best way to answer a question like the one he felt he was being presented with. 2D smiles weakly for a moment, thinking perhaps Russel had seen the same thing himself after all.

"Okay. So wot funny feelin' do you have then?" he asks, stepping forward. Russel shrugs and looks back down at the bags again.

"Dat if'n yo ass tells him what you jus' said. Den he's goin'a rip yo stoopid Cracker head, off'n yo shoulders." 2D blanches and seem to go completely limp.

"Awwww, that ain' 'elpful." he moans. Russel pulls a burger from one of the bags, and looks back up at the young man.

"Well den why you haffa tell him? I know it might be diff'cult. But dere have bin many people who have fallen in love wit' someone, fo' good or bad reasons, but neva tol' 'em." he replies, unwrapping the burger and licking his lips. 2D nods at him thinking for a moment, when suddenly his brain leaps upon a single word that the large drummer had said. Sending sirens raging through his mind. _'Love?'_

"Wait, wot?! I ain' in love wif him! Wot made yah fink I woz in love wif him?!" he splutters. Russel furrows his brow and studies 2D's now very astonished, but angry face.

"Well coz dats what yo ass jus' said!" he gruffly replies, jabbing his burger toward the frustrated young man. "You said you had a funny feelin' bout him. An if'n you two Crackers wanna git it on, den I ain' one tah stan' in yo way. Min' you, I already have a feelin' who dah bitch goin'a be in dat relationship." he chuckles, and bites down on his burger. 2D paces back and forth in front of him, grabbing at his hair and fuming about what Russel had just suggested.

"Noooo. I didn' mean that kind'a feelin' at all! I woz talkin' about a completely.... Wait? Who'd be the bitch?" he stops and looks at the drummer, who half smiles, and swallows the portion of food he'd been eating.

"If'n yo ass don' know dah answer tah dat. Den Muds ain' hitcha hard enough yet." Russel chuckles, and reaches into another bag for his drink. 2D raises an eyebrow, and a finger, and goes to say something else. But the thought of what the drummer had said already, makes him realize he was wasting his time. Russel hadn't noticed it at all. He lowers his hand and closes his mouth, waving the drummer off and leaving him to his meal. The large man watches him leave, as he takes a gulp of his drink. "Crazy ass Cracker." he chuckles, and unwraps another burger.

2D instantly decides that he didn't want to ask Noodle what she thought. Considering the conversation he'd just had with Russel, the last thing he wanted was to cement any thought that he had more than feeling's of friendship towards Murdoc. Besides which, if Murdoc found out what he'd even unwillingly hinted at, the outcome could be more than detrimental to the young man's health. He sighs heavily and begins the long walk back to the car park.

"She'd prolly end up finkin' I woz havin a long standin' relationship wif him, or sumfink?" he moans, as he opens a door ahead of him. "Or dat I fink I'm havin' his twins.... Eww." he shudders as the door closes behind him. He enters the car park and as the door closes behind him, he hears a noise. Looking up onto the Winnie's roof, he sees Cortez sitting up there, quietly preening his wing feathers.

"You know though, doncha?" 2D calls to the bird. Cortez stops and looks down at the keyboardist, narrowing his cold dark eyes.

_'What that loco amigo want weef me?'_ Cortez thinks, slowly pacing up and down and getting himself ready to swoop down and attack the young man.

"You knew it long before anyone else I'll bet?" 2D continues.

_'I know nufeenk. Who say I know sumfeenk? Whoever they are, I come over their house, and peck holes in their gato.' _Cortez adds, even angrier than before.

"That, that....!" 2D splutters angrily, pointing at the large car park entrance door. "That impostor, just ain' Muds!"

_'Carumba! That amigo a geenius?'_ the bird is so astonished by what the keyboardist just said, he stops and blinks vaguely at him. Dipping his head under his wing, and trying to clear his vision. _'Thees can not be that loco 2D? I know he stoopeed.'_ But looking back down at the young man, he can plainly see that it is indeed 2D standing there. The raven flaps his wings and glides down to the young man. 2D instantly flinches, remembering the many times the large black bird had attacked him before. But to his surprise, this time Cortez gently lands on his still outstretched arm. He blinks at the bird, who quietly caws at him, trying his best to get the keyboardist to understand him. But the young man can't, instead he gives the bird a flinching smile and carefully raises a hand to give the raven a pat.

"Aww, you are a nice bird." 2D coos.

_'Nice bird nufeenk. Why I no get that fat eediot? He have much more brain een his casaba. Not loco like you.'_

"But you do know it, doncha? Not that it makes a difference. Knowin's one fing. It's wot tah do that's tha problem." 2D sighs. Cortez looks down at the floor. He knows the young man is right. It is a problem. Even with the little he knew, in truth, he couldn't be sure exactly what this impostor was, or how he'd managed to do what he had? The bits and pieces he'd been able to glean over the last few days were fine. But what to do with it all and how, was the tricky part. Especially for a bird. All he cared about really, was getting his master back. And as soon as possible. He looks up at the young man's face and tries to work out a way to get him to understand, that he'd already worked out that the impostor, was indeed an impostor. A demon to be exact.

_'Only way ees to show the loco amigo. You come weef me. I show you.' _Cortez thinks, flying down from the young man's arm and landing on one of the Winnie's side mirrors. He pecks the window and looks back at 2D.

"Wot? You want me to look in the window?" 2D asks, walking over and cupping his hands against the glass.

_'No stoopeed. I want you to open the door!'_ Cortez, caws angrily and flies to the door, diving at it, and doing his best to attack it with his feet. 2D watches for a moment, and slowly begins to understand.

"Oh, you wanna go inside. Okay." he smiles, and opens the door. Cortez immediately swoops inside and lands on the shelves by Murdoc's books.

_'I show you the book, and you read out feengs to me. Then I can show you what to do. Okay?'_ Cortez says, pecking at one of the books. He looks around and sees 2D is no where to be seen. '_Hey? Where you go amigo.'_ The raven flies back outside just in time to see 2D's bedroom door close.

_'Eediot. I no say it time to go bed! Aye Carumba. Thees amigo ees stoopeed.'_ Cortez flies to the door and begins pecking on it loudly. _'Open the door. You come out now and we do thees.'_ The young man opens the door and looks down.

"Allo again." he smiles.

_'Allo nufeek. We have much to do, and I no have time to play. Now come weef me.'_ Cortez caws loudly, and begins pulling on 2D's laces. Walking a few steps away, and waiting for the young man to follow.

"I don't understand?" Cortez walks back and pulls on his laces again, walking back to the Winnie a short distance, and looking back to see if 2D is following. Finally it dawns on the keyboardist, and he follows the raven back to the wagon. The bird flies inside, and lands on the shelf again, looking to see if the young man was watching. 2D pokes his head inside, and Cortez once again pecks at the book.

_'Okay, you read. I show you what to do, and we get Murdoc back.'_

"Aww, you want me to read you a story. I didn't know Murdoc did that sort of thing, but Okay." 2D grins, taking out the book that Cortez is pecking at.

_'Read me a story? I'll peck you in the cahones. I peck you so hard, that years from now, your bambinos weel feel eet.' _2D sits down and places the book on the table. The raven flits over to the table, and approaches the book. Opening it as best as he can with his beak, he turns the pages. Looking for the one he knew would show the keyboardist, what they were dealing with. Finally he sees the page and begins pecking hard at the picture. 2D looks down at it, and back at the bird.

"Why are you showing me this.....?" he stops and looks hard at Cortez, then around the wagon. Slowly his brain begins to take it all in and he realizes that maybe Cortez is no ordinary raven. "You're trying to tell me sumfink important, aincha?" Cortez suddenly falls onto his back as if he's dead. 2D lurches back, pressing his knuckles against his mouth. But suddenly getting to his feet again, the raven caws angrily at the startled keyboardist.

_'Why you make thees hard! Concentrate amigo! Yes I try tell you sumfeenk important. I no do all the work here.'_

"Didn't know ravens could faint." 2D mutters, looking over the picture. "Are you sayin' that, that impostor is this guy?" he asks, pointing at the demon in the picture. Cortez blinks at him and cocks his head to his shoulder, almost looking like he was shrugging.

"Oh, so not actually this guy? But a guy like this?" the raven caws softly in confirmation, making the young man grin happily at getting it right. "So what do....." Suddenly they are interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into a space close by. 2D panics and stands up, for a moment not knowing where to run to. Cortez flies to the shelf and pecks the space where the book came from, and caws at 2D. The young man grabs the book and roughly shoves it back in the hole, then dives out of the wagon, racing back to his room. Cortez looks at the open door, and hides his head under his wing in disgust.

_'Eediot. Now he know sumfeenk up. Not like raven know how to open door.'_ he sighs and hopes that the impostor will think he'd accidentally left it open himself. Murdoc steps inside a few seconds later, looking cautiously around the wagon.

"I know I shut this door." he growls, then sees Cortez sitting near the books. He notices the one that Cortez had shown 2D wasn't quite pushed in all the way. He smiles, thinking that perhaps the raven had been trying to pull it out. "Interested, are we?" he takes the book out and sits down at the table. The raven eyes him carefully and not wanting to upset the demon, flits over to the table and sits close by.

"I can read some of it out to you. I know a thing or two about it you know?" the bassist smiles, thinking maybe he'd finally found a way to win the bird over.

_'Oh I know you know about eet. I know you ees a diablo, and I am goeeng to send you back.'_ Cortez almost seems to smile which makes the impostor happy. Murdoc slowly flips through the pages, looking for something he could share with the bird. When suddenly he comes to the page Cortez had shown 2D. Seeing the slight tears and peck marks, the bassist stops and furrows his brow. Slowly he runs his hand across the page, deep in thought. Cortez begins to feel anxious and slowly moves back a few steps, getting ready to take off if things suddenly turned nasty. The bassist suddenly slams the book closed and grabs the raven tightly in his hands. Cortez cries out and begins pecking furiously, but the impostor suddenly grabs him by the neck and presses down as if to break it. The raven stops instantly, and caws softly, hoping to save himself.

"I'm not gunna hurt you. But let me get one thing between you and me, perfectly clear. I know yer no ordinary bird. Yer a lot smarter than a lot of humans I've met. Congratulations on working me out. That was well done. But all that ends here, got me? I dunno who you had in here, probably that fat git Russel? And I dunno how much you were able to get across to him? But if he suddenly does or says anythin' I don't like, you and he are done fer. Understand?" Murdoc slowly lets the ravens neck go and gently places him down on the table. The bird ruffles his feathers and caws gently back, letting the bassist know he did understand, and would behave. This pleases the old man, and he makes his way to the back of the wagon, and goes to bed.

Cortez sits quietly in the dark, staring at the faint outline of the sleeping bassist. He almost seems to grin at him, because he knows that the old man had got it wrong. It wasn't Russel who was helping him get his real master back. It was 2D. So the bassist would be watching the wrong person. This would give him as much time as he needed, to teach 2D all he needed to know. It would of been easier if the American had worked it out, sure. But so long as he had some assistance, the raven didn't care.

_'You sleep eesy now diablo. Because you need all the energy you can get amigo. Dees raven goin'a get you. You wait and see.'_


	4. In the dark

The next day at breakfast, Russel is sitting in the kitchen, behind his usual food mountain, when Murdoc walks into the room. The old bassist slits his eyes at the large man, and slows his pace, as he makes his way to the table. The large American continues eating, not noticing the cold stare he was receiving from the bassist. 2D is also sitting at the table, opposite the drummer. He can see the haunting gleam in Murdoc's eyes, and shudders, looking down at the table.. This Russel does notice and stops chewing, furrowing his brow as he wonders what had made 2D look down that way. Out of the corner of his vacant eye. He suddenly spies movement next to him and turns his head. Finally seeing the bassist, he continues chewing believing it could only be the old man's presence that had made the young man behave that way.

"Muds." He says to him dryly, receiving an equally dry grunt in reply. Murdoc kicks out a chair from the table and sits down, continuing to watch the drummer eating. After a short while, the bassist's steady gaze begins to make the large man feel uncomfortable. He shuffles awkwardly in his chair. Murdoc watches the drummer twitch, and strain the muscles in his neck, as he tries to settle the cold sensations running up and down his back.

"Summink wrong there Rrrruss?" Murdoc hisses, deliberately drawing out the word. The large man hesitates at the next bite, and turns his eyes to look at the bassist. He knows why Murdoc draws out his name. A play on the American accent, and the way they tend to roll their R's. Not that knowing this prevents it from being annoying. He shakes off the cold sensation again and takes a ferocious bite from the piece of chicken he is holding. Making a show of chewing in front of the bassist, and looking for any sign of the old man's gaze shifting elsewhere, he swallows and finally decides to answer.

"Well man, I do keep getting' dis 'orrible feelin'. Like I'm bein' watched by summin' green, 'orrible and smelly. Ever had that feelin' yoself man? Like maybe when you look in dah mirror?" he barely shifts his gaze from the piece of chicken in his hand as he talks. He smiles at the end, flitting his eyes across to the bassist, just for a moment. Murdoc's mood remains flat, apart from the cold gleam in his eyes, it almost appears as though the old man hadn't heard what the drummer had said. He watches Russel bit off another piece of chicken, before responding.

"Green, horrible and smelly? Sounds vaguely familiar." he slowly shifts his gaze across to 2D, who lifts his head and sees those odd eyes burrowing into him now, and blinks in astonishment not understanding what the bassist meant. Slowly his mind searches for a reason, until it eventually falls on the memory of him yelling at Murdoc. He rapidly stands up and looks at the old man pleadingly.

"I said I woz sorry Muds." he whimpers. The old man grimaces, not interested in his apologies, continuing to stare at the unfortunate young man.

"Wait wha?" Russel suddenly asks, almost putting down his chicken. "Whachew havin' tah say sorry fo' I miss summin' dere?" 2D's attention taken elsewhere, the young man turns to Russel.

"Well'w...?" he begins to explain. Suddenly a bottle smashes on the wall near the refridgerator, showering the room with tiny shards of glass and making everyone but Murdoc flinch. 2D dives under the table, and Russel turns to the only one he feels would of thrown it. Murdoc.

"You crazy Cracker. Now whatchew go do a fing like dat fo'? I know I ain' cleanin' dat." It suddenly occurs to Russel that Murdoc only ever tends to do things like that, when 2D was about to give the bassist's game away on something. "Don' tell me the little Cracker go' summin' on yo ass? Dee, you gitcher ass out from un'er dere and talk to me man." After a few seconds and no sign of movement from the keyboardist. Russel reaches under the table and feels around for him. His hand touches something familiar and he grips it tightly, pulling the young man out by the back of his collar. He drops him down in a chair and begins to try and probe the answer out of him. 2D looks over at the old man, who hadn't appeared to of moved at all. He swallows hard, knowing exactly what the bottle had meant, and not needed any explanation from the bassist, as to what would happen if he answered even one of the drummers questions.

Later that evening, the old man manages to convince the drummer to come out with him. Believing that limiting the amount of opportunities the raven would have, to get the large man alone, the better of he would be. Not that he really wanted the American to accompany him to his favorite haunts, he couldn't see any reason why he should be forced to stay home because of it, so better to tolerate one in favor of the other. Not that it makes any difference to the bird, sitting on the roof of the wagon, to keep watch for the young man. When he finally arrives, the both of them sit together at the table in the Winnie, and continue trying to communicate to one another. 2D had spent a lot of his time doing his own thing, but not wasted all of it though, at least in his own mind. He had continued thinking very hard about what Cortez had revealed to him.

"Okay, so I woz finkin' about that picher ya showed me right. And I started tah fink about how Muds is behavin'. I fink Muds is like possessed, or sumfink? And wot we need tah do is like get a priest and exer... exsor... esser...? Unpossess him." 2D looks over at the raven, for any sign of confirmation of what he thought was a good idea. The raven turns his cold dark eyes on the young man and ruffles his feathers.

_'Hombre, I already feenk dees way. But Diablo no geev me eenuf to say eef dees true or not.' _Cortez simply blinks back, hoping that the young man had come up with another possiblity. Unfortunately the keyboardist misinterprets the lack of response as a cue that his idea was right, and continues.

"So I got a phone book and looked up exor... esser? Tsk! Unpossessin' priests... you know I don' fink they're listed? Coz I couldn't find one." 2D shrugs and rubs his arm, hoping Cortez would be pleased that he'd done his best, and not angry with him not being able to complete the task he had given himself. Cortez cocks his head to his side incredulously.

_'Ce? I no breeng preist here! Even eef Diablo possess Murdoc, and eet best way to breeng heem back. Murdoc no ever forgeev me. I need to teach you how to feenk like good Sataneest. Eet impolite to just exorcise another like that amigo. Even eef eet for hees own good.' _Cortez flits over to the bookshelf again, and looks for a book he knows Murdoc owns, that teaches the basics of how to be a Satanist. He finds it and begins pecking the spine, looking over to 2D and waiting for him to come and get it. The keyboardist looks over at him and smiles, thinking that Cortez had taken his advice and was showing him a book on how to exorcise people. He stands up and walks over to the shelf, pulling out the book and reading the cover.

"Wait this book is about how tah be a Satanist? How's this gunna help?" he asks, furrowing his brow at the bird. Cortez pecks him on the hip and caws at him to just sit and study the book. The young man fliches away, and rubbing his hip, goes back to the table and sits down. "It'd be so much easier if you could talk." Cortez flits back to the table, and blinks at him.

_'I can talk amigo. You just too stoopeed to understand me.' _ the bird caws angrily and pecks at the book in the young man's hand. He places it down on the table and opens the cover. Starting from the first page, he reads quietly as the bird watches out the window for any sign of Murdoc. 2D suddenly stops and turns back to the raven.

"Yah know. I am a Buddhist. I don' fink I should...?" Crtez turns instantly and almost seems to hiss at him. Annoyed with all the complaints and excuses from the keyboardist, the raven has had enough. Wanting him to get on with his task, he hops quickly over to him and viciously pecks at his arms and chest, as 2D raises his hands and tries to fend off the blows.

_'You need to stop feenkeeng! I no care eef you Buddhist, or Catholic, or even part time table leg amigo! Murdoc een dark place! Bad place! He need me to get heem out and I no know why dark forces send me idiota like you? But you all I have to fight weef. So stop complaineeng and read!' _2D flinches and lurches away from the bird and vicious beak. Eventually ducking under the table for protection.

"He's like Murdoc in bird form or sumfink? Okay, okay! I'll read the book. Just stop hittin', I mean peckin' me!"

Somewhere in a hole in the deepest part of Hell, Murdoc is lying broken and bleeding. He groans loudly and opens one good eye. Looking around dazed, he gingerly reaches up and touches his injured eye, which had been punched shut by the impostor, after falling down into the Hell hole. Having been unconscious since then, he's unaware of how long he'd been lying there, but the pungent smell and heat around him, tells him where he is, and that he has to get out as soon as possible. Knowing that capture by any of Satan's demons, would spell the end for the bassist, after reneging on the deal he had made with him, and refusing to even acknowledge any wrong doing on his part for it. He knew the Dark Lord would be delighted at his unintended visit. Feeling around inside his mouth, with the tip of his long snake-like tongue, he gazes around the area trying to get his bearings. He spits out a mouthful of blood, and slowly struggles to his feet. A wave of nausea hits him like a brick wall, and he staggers backwards, falling and landing on his buttocks. For a moment he freezes, trying to work out what happened. It doesn't take long for him to work it out and he sits forwards again, dropping his head and waiting for the sickening sensation to pass.

"Ack! Did that too quick." he chuckles, trying to lighten his mood. He carefully gets to his knees and takes time to pause and acclimatize to each stage, as he raises himself back to a standing position. Reaching into his back pocket, he takes out his lighter and cigarettes, lighting one and counting how many he has left.

"Right! Seven cigarettes, and a burnin' desire to get out of this shit hole, before I meet someone I shouldn't." he grumbles, tucking the lighter and packet back in his pocket. "I hope fer everyone's sake I'm out of here before I run out. Or they're gunna get an introduction they might regret." Taking a deep breath, the bassist moves off, looking for a way out.

Back in the Winnie, Cortez has finally managed to get the young man to understand the fundamentals of not exorcising people against their will. 2D has complained the whole time about being pecked, but hasn't seemed to of been able to get his point across as easily.

"Okay I get it. No unpossessin' people. Now will you please stop peckin' me?" he whimpers, rubbing the red welts on his arms.

_'Amigo eef you no be stoopeed, I no need to peck you. Now stop beieeng beeg sissy pants weef tiny bambino pene, and concentrate.'_ Just at that moment, the sound of a car pulling up disturbs them. 2D grabs the book from the table, and leaves the wagon. This time remembering to close the door behind him.

_'Eet good to see he feenkeeng dees time. You read book amigo. Tomorrow we start basic traineeng. I hope for Murdoc sake you no take too long to teach... Hmm? I should sharpen beak now.'_ Murdoc walks in and drops his keys and mobile on the table. He watches the raven sharpen his beak on the table for a moment and smiles.

"I have a present fer you."the bassist says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something wrapped in paper. The raven stops and lifts his head, watching the old man unwrapping the paper and placing it down on the table close to him. The raven looks down at the 'present', then back up at the old man, slitting his eyes.

"Well, go on. Take it." the impostor coos, pushing the parcel closer to the bird. Looking back down at the parcel, Cortez can see that it's diced liver. One of his favorite treats, but because of who is giving it to him, decides to refuse to accept it. He takes the corner of the paper in his beak, and drags it to the edge of the table, dropping the whole lot on the floor. Checking the look on the bassist's face, he flits over to his spot on the back of the passenger seat, and waits to see how the impostor will react.

"Ungrateful swine." the bassist snarls, snatching up the rejected present and storming over to the toilet. The raven almost seems to smile as the bassist flushes it.

_'I no fall for your games Diablo, I already have master. Hees name ees Murdoc Niccals, and eef you feenk you ees good relacement? You ees more loco than that 2D amigo. But don' you worry, when eet come time for you to leave, I make sure you much wiser when eet happen.'_


	5. School's in

The next morning, 2D is just stepping into the car park after having a shower. Suddenly a book drops down at his feet, from somewhere above him. Missing striking him by mere inches, he looks up and sees Cortez glide back over to the Winnie, settling on the roof of the wagon, cawing at him.

"Wot more readin'? Aww, I've barely finished readin' the other one." he wails to the bird, picking up the book.

"What the fuck, are you whinin' about now?" Murdoc screeches, slamming open the door of the wagon, and staring down at the terrified young man. 2D instantly tucks the book in his pocket, and steps towards his bedroom.

"Nufink, nufink. I um, woz talkin' tah meself." he replies, waving back at the bassist as he rapidly retreats to his room. Murdoc eyes the retreating young man, before looking up at the raven sitting quietly on the roof of the wagon.

"Yeah right." he hisses, stepping down and pulling the door closed behind him. He slits his eyes at the bird and clicks his tongue, thinking. "Yer not thinkin'...?" he stops mid sentence and looks back at the keyboardists door. Cortez holds his breath for a moment, hoping that the old man would not finish the sentence. The bassist chuckles and waves the bird off.

"Nah, no one would be stupid enough to even think of askin' that moron fer help. Far too hard to even get him to understand plain English, let alone squawk. Gotta be Russel." Cortez lets out a silent breath of relief, and watches the bassist open the door to the lobby corridor, and step inside. The raven then turns his cold eyes towards the keyboardists door, as the corridor door closes behind the exiting old man.

_'Eediota. You tryeeng to get us...? Aye caramba. Why me? I only a bird. I no need dees kind of pressure. I need...? I neeeeeeed....? I no know what I need.... Wait I got eet! I need la mejor chica. Si, that what I need. I go find now."_ Just as the raven is about to take flight, 2D pokes his head out from his room and scans the area for Murdoc. Not seeing him, he hisses at the bird.

"Psst, Cortez." he whispers, beckoning frantically at the bird to come over. The raven sighs heavily and gives in, flying over to the young man and settling on the floor at his feet.

_'You make this quick amigo.'_ the bird caws softly, pecking the keyboardists toes. 2D rubs his toes and falls to his knees in front of the bird, opening the manual to a page and pointing at a picture. Before he says anything, Cortez can see the young man was about to ask him something complicated.

_'You keed me amigo. No you ask me stoopeed question now. I have chica to find. We goeeng to get down and dirty together, and I show her moves make her weeng feathers fall out. She no is goeeng to forget me in hurry. Might need a doctor to sew her back together again when I finish. You no invited hombre... Okay you invited. But no flash photography... Okay maybe one or two, but I want the negateeves. You no get nufeenk on me. I know how you locos operate.'_

"This fing's talkin' about rituals and stuff, and some of it tells yah that yah haffta be naked. Do I haffta? Coz I'm not sure I wanna get naked in front of a raven. Someone might come in and fink I woz bein' all pervy and stuff." 2D complains, jabbing his finger at the picture. The raven blinks at him for a moment, before ducking his head under his wing and cawing softly in frustration.

_'Why I know you goeeng to do thees?'_ the bird laments. Bringing his head back out, he waits for 2D to realize his mistake. After a few more seconds of silence, it occurs to the bird that 2D was indeed far too dim-witted to realize that he couldn't answer the keyboardists complex question. The raven sighs again, and decides to just ignore him instead, taking off in a flurry of black feathers. The young man watches the bird leave, before turning and looking back at the picture on the page.

"I guess I am s'pose tah get naked then? Awwww, I hope it won' be somewhere cold." he moans, looking down at his genitals and feeling a little vulnerable.

That afternoon, Murdoc is sitting in the Winnie drinking Scotch from the bottle, watching Cortez sitting on the table, carefully preening his wing feathers. The bassist lifts his leg, and drops one of his heavily booted feet on the table, disturbing the bird and making it look over at him. Cortez ruffles his feathers in annoyance, cawing at him loudly.

"I'm sorry, did I disturb you?" Murdoc chuckles sarcastically. The bird quietens down again, and settles himself. Doing his best to ignore the bassists presence. "Youuuu.... don't really get me, do you?" the impostor drawls, taking his foot back down from the table and attempting to stand up. Much too drunk, his legs buckle under him and he falls back down into the chair.

_'You too drunk amigo. No so inteemidateeng thees way. Make me laugh. Ha!'_

"That green moron you ssseem to be so in love with? Wha, what a complete...hic...com, complete waste of sssssssspace. (Belch) S'cuse me. I, wait no. I.... I.... can't remember where I am? (Looks around aimlessly.) No s'ok. I remember now. Sooooo many things he could of accompl...ished, but nooooo. Too busy tryin' to impressss, the unimpressable....? impressionable. (Nods as if his neck is made of rubber.) No wait, I think I said that wrong? (Thinks....... Scratches stubble..... Farts.) Nah s'ok. I think you get my meanin'. Whatever okay, what-the-fuck-ever. I eh, I could of done so much more with what he's thrown away. Yeah eh, didn' see that comin' didja? Nooo. What the fuck is that awful smell? (Sniffs the air... looks behind him.... Sniffs back there to be sure.... turns back, looks at bird and shrugs?) So many opp...oppor..tunit...ittys, titties.....? Titties? What am I talkin' about? Doesn't matter, coz you see, you. Yeah you bird. Listen. You have no idea why I care, what an insignificant bird like you thinks. Do yah?" Murdoc winks at the raven and tries to sit back and look intimidating, he slips and nearly falls off his chair. "Bugger!"

_'What you say? Eensigneeficant!'_

"Because I need someone like you on side. Hear that bird? I neeeeeeed you. C'mon, lets be buddies? Heh, friends....? Compadres? I wanna be yer friend." the raven watches the light slowly drain from the bassist's eyes, as the alcohol begins to take hold of his senses. Finally with a loud thump, he falls to the floor unconscious. Cortez shakes his head slowly from side to side, and after a moment considers the thought the old man had left him with.

_'Friends? That no so bad thought really. Maybe eef you theenk I you friend, you tell me more than you should? Okay Diablo, you ween. We be friends, heh, heh.'_

He flaps down from the table and settles on the floor near the snoring bassist. Walking over to him, he stops by his hand and gently pecks at it until the old man wakes up. Slowly Murdoc's eyes flicker open, and with a groan he sits up.

"Wha? How'd I get on the floor?" he slurs, rubbing the back of his head. The raven pecks his hand gently again and looks up at him, making the bassist look down and furrow his brow. "Huh?" carefully the bird climbs up his arm and settles on his shoulder, waiting for the old man to recognize the signal of friendship. Slowly it does dawn on him, and he smiles warmly, reaching back and gently ruffling the bird's head feathers.

"Now that.... That's more like it. Can be friends." he mumbles, and reaching up to the table top, he slowly drags himself to his feet. "I think I'll go to bed now? Things getting' really, really fuzzy. Mmmmhmm." Cortez flaps his large wings and leaps across to the back of the passenger seat, turning to watch the bassist stagger down the aisle and collapse on his bed.

_'Aye, aye, aye. I hope eef Murdoc hear about dees, he understand eet just to get heem back. Not like I goeeng to marry thees loco Diablo or nufeenk.'_

Back in the depths of the Hell hole. Murdoc is carefully and silently, making his way past a small gaggle of demons. Feeling vulnerable without a weapon with which to protect him, he had been doing his best not to attract the attention, of anything or anyone too big for him to handle. He slowly slides his way along a small wall, crouching down as best as he can till he gets to a much darker area of the courtyard he had entered. And with a small dive roll, quickly ducks into a cavern. Standing up and sucking a quick breath of relief, he quickly makes his way along a narrow corridor, stopping at the end and quickly poking his head out to look about, before darting out and continuing on his way. He suddenly spots two very large demons coming out of a doorway ahead of him, and slams himself against the wall. Once again using the shadows as cover, he's grateful that they don't appear to of noticed him, as they head away from him down the corridor. He makes his way to the doorway they came through, and gently opens the, looking about inside. Along one of the walls, he notices a few weapons, and grunts with satisfaction. Grabbing one of them and feeling the weight of it in his hand, he smiles to himself, and looks around the rest of the room. A few large boxes attract his attention, and he makes his way over to them, lifting the lid and rummaging around inside for anything useful. Finding nothing of interest in the first, he moves on to the next.

"What I really need is a rope, or somethin' similar. Hmmm, porn." he smiles, pulling out a pornographic magazine. He closes the lid of the box and begins flipping through the magazine. "Thing's are lookin' up." he chuckles and looks around the room again. Seeing a chair in the corner he moves to the door and locks it, then makes his way back over to the chair and sits down.

"Might as well, who can say if I'll ever get another opportunity? Heh, heh." Placing the weapon down by his feet, he settles back in the chair and unbuckles his belt, scanning the page of the magazine before him.


	6. It's not me, it's you

Now that he and Cortez were friends, the impostor had relaxed his defenses around the raven. Not completely by any means, but just enough for the bird to get the old man talking. At first not about much, but one night, after a particularly bad run in with an Absinthe bottle, the bassist gave the bird a very interesting piece of information. It was everything that raven had needed to work out exactly what it was they had been dealing with. The demon had started talking about Hell. In particular, what it was like being down there, and how he and his demon mates had been pissed off about how great Satan thought Murdoc was. As a human being, he was not considered to be very interesting. But every now and then, certain qualities would shine through, that made the Dark Lord sit up and pay closer attention. Which turned out to be exactly why he'd chose Murdoc as someone he wanted to bring into the fold. The fact that the Dark Lord had manipulated forces, to have that pamphlet placed in his hand all those years ago, which had encouraged him to become a Satanist in the first place. Murdoc might of believed he'd chose Satanism. But all the demons in Hell knew better. It had chose him. Of course Satan found it amusing to imagine telling the bassist that, as he knew it would make the old man furious.

"You see... hic... Satan loves it when the green bastard looses his rag. Reckons he behaves more like a real demon when he's like that.... C'ept in human form." the impostor had slurred.

But from the very moment Murdoc had entered Hell to strike up a deal with the Dark Lord. Hell had gone to, Hell. Murdoc had wooed Satan into believing he was someone to trust. Enough for the Lord to hand over his prized possession to him anyway. The El Diablo was not something you just give to anyone. But Satan had placed it in Murdoc's green hands like it was something he did every day. Cortez had turned away from the impostor at that point, and looked over at the wardrobe where the evil guitar lay. He shivered at the thought of the thing and the power it possessed, but couldn't help smile at how easily Murdoc had tricked the evil Lord. His loss really the bird smiled, and turned back to the impostor. The bassist had gone on to explain how he and his friends were pissed off about how Satan had "lost it," when he realized he'd been fooled. Murdoc had no intention of following through with the deal at all. Coming back to Hell to be the new Satan, was the furtherest thing from his mind. He was having much too much fun just being famous. All Hell had broke loose at that point, and no one was safe from the evil Lord's wrath. He'd stomp his way through the halls of Hell, tearing the heads off passing demons and drop kicking them into bottomless pits. He wanted Murdoc, and he wanted him now! Nevertheless, he still liked him and found a lot of his evil plans impressive.

"If only you lot were more like him, he says. He says that all the time.... Then he sets fire to some poor sod, or summink like that. Pays not to be close at hand when he gets like that you, hic, know. He's still pissed off with him. It's just he can't help be impressed... apparently. Murdoc is his golden boy." the impostor flashed a cutesy smile at the bird, before changing it to a sick face and waving it all off. "Still wants him dead though. We all do. Just not dead and in Hell. God don't wanna know though. He wrote that bastard off at birth. That's when I came up with my ingenious plan. You see, I reckon I could do as a good a job at being Murdoc, my head is so big I can hardly fit through doorways, Niccals. If I can impress Satan as much as he does, I'll get to be the new Satan. The fact that my friends want to tear the old bastard limb from limb helps. Coz even though I tricked him into fallin' down there without any weapons, it don't mean he's gunna get within a mile of Satan. They'll slaughter him long before then. Stick him in a box and bury it in one of the cavern walls. Satan would never find him then. He'd haffta gimme the job then....... Wouldn' he?" Cortez had bowed his head in thought at that point, wondering if not having anything to protect him mattered?

_'You teenk he need weapon? No hombre. Murdoc one clever amigo. He use those beeg boots of hees. Stomp you and keek you till you cry like leetle girly man. He find weapon. He clever gringo, could snap off you leg and use it to beat you friends to tiny pieces weef. Not good to underesteemate Murdoc. Everyone keep doing that and making me wonder how many times he have to do it, before they learn no to do that? Always he turn theengs to his favour. Even when hombres teenk they ween, Murdoc come in like el toro, and show them they wrong. He play the fool to you. Make you theenk he easy. Make you theenk he too drunk to notice. Make you theenk he no have any way of weening against you. But it all a game amigo. You be busy haveeng the fiesta, but Murdoc outside setting your gato on fire and pissing een your hot tub. Then just to be sure you understand heem in charge. That when he walk een and slap you stoopeed in front of you pappy. He no care how you feel. You smallest theeng een the world to heem. Murdoc ees only interested een Murdoc. You tears, and happiness. You success and failures. You wants and needs, and any other emotion you feenk to throw down at hees feet. He no want to know them. You weakness, is you weakness. Eef you let heem see you have difficulty een you life, you only have a few seconds to show heem you can feex eet youself. Coz eef you don't, it almost like you want heem to be disgusted at you. So heem oblige. He no have anyone do anytheeng to help him when he leetle boy. He had to help heemself. He got so used to doeeng that, he do eet all time now. He no expect favors from anyone, because no one ever deed them for heem before, so he no expect eet now. He no expect pity, because no one ever pitied heem before. He no expect love, because no one ever loved heem before. It no keel him. He no see reason why other hombres no do eet same way. But he no blind either. He see all those theengs shown to others. And it hurt heem. Make heem wonder why he get treated different. Why he no deserve to grow up happy and seguro. Eet make heem mad, and envidioso. So he hit out at people who try do eet to heem now. What good eet do heem now! He grown man, hees infancia taken away. Torn down and thrown een the basura like eet notheeng..... Well it either that, or he just hate you.'_

Turning his attention back to the here and now, Cortez smiles at the knowledge that he had the demon exactly where he wanted him. And knowing that it was just that, a demon, made things easier. It meant he could concentrate on building 2D up, and not worry about anything else. He'd taken the young man down to the Hell hole, and showed him pictures of people falling, until the young man finally understood what had happened to Murdoc. He'd also showed him pictures of boxers, till the young man understood it was what Murdoc faced. He'd never liked the Hell hole though, so the less time he spent near it, the happier the raven was.

_'Bad magia pour out of there. Make my feathers all dirty.'_ He shudders and turns back to the young man in front of him. Although the keyboardist had been making progress, it wasn't fast enough for the bird's liking. His forgetfulness, and tendency to be distracted was annoying as well. Not to mention a danger to them both. Just last night he had turned to the raven for help, and with his concentration broken, somehow brought a Velociraptor into existence in the wall in front of them. Completely fused with the wall, and not at all happy about it, it snapped it's jaws, and screeched at them, clawing at the air trying to free itself. Cortez had screeched back, flitting quickly behind the terrified young man, who decided he didn't want to be first in line to meet this thing if it succeeded. He'd grabbed the raven from behind him, holding it out towards the enraged creature, while hiding himself behind the mortified bird. After several attempts to send it back, they had given up and decided to feed it instead. Much later....

"Why is dere a tyrannosaur in dah studio kitchen?" Russel asks Murdoc as the drummer steps out onto the kitchen balcony. Murdoc gives the drummer the evil eye, screwing up his crumpled nose in thought, before giving up and shrugging at him.

"I dunno? Why is there a tyrannosaur in the studio kitchen?" Murdoc replies with a grin. Russel purses his lips in frustration and folds his huge arms over his chest.

"I ain' makin' no joke man, I'm serious. Dere is a dirty great assed tyrannosaur in dah studio kitchen, and I t'ink it's already eaten dat polar bear. I wanna know why it's dere?" he snarls at the bassist, jabbing his thumb back over his shoulder.

"It ate the polar bear?" Murdoc asks a little surprised, this time raising both eyebrows.

"Yeah. Well I t'ink so? He ain' dere and dat crocodile is lookin' a bit nervous." Russel shrugs.

"Oh, well no great loss then." Murdoc yawns, leaning back on his deck chair. He closes his eyes and settles down for a nap. Russel stares at the bassist in annoyance, and jabs him sharply in the rib cage with a finger, snapping the old man awake again.

"Oi! Cut that out." the bassist snaps, rubbing his rib cage and glaring at the large man.

"Dere is an angry tyrannosaur, stuck in dah wall, in dah studio kitchen!" Russel growls, leaning down and bringing his face to within inches of Murdoc's crumpled nose.

"Yeah, I heard you. So why are you moaning at me about it?" Murdoc hisses back through his clenched teeth, pressing himself up and further into the drummer's face.

"Coz dat's summin' you and dat crazy Cracker Satanism would cook up. So gitcher green ass down dere an' fix it!" Russel roars back. Murdoc waves his hand across his face, as if attempting to brush away an annoying insect.

"I didn't do it. And I would appreciate it if you would stop eatin' garlic, then comin' over here to breathe on me." Murdoc snaps back. Russel pulls himself up to full height again, and gruffly folds his arms back over his chest, hissing angrily through his nose.

"You don' fool me man. Jus' admit it. You got drunk an' did some crazy assed Ju Ju, an' messed it up." he growls. This makes Murdoc furious and he finally leaps out of his chair, standing up to the large man.

"No I didn't!" he roars back. 2D walks out onto the balcony wondering what the two men were arguing about this time.

"You hocused up a tyrannosaur, admit it!" Russel insists, rolling his eyes.

"No I didn't!" Murdoc screeches back once again.

"It's a Velociraptor, and his name is Jerry." 2D mumbles, walking to the table and pulling out a chair. Both men turn instantly and stare open mouthed in amazement at the keyboardist. The young man suddenly realizes they had overheard him, and blushes.

"Wot?" he asks innocently, rubbing his arm nervously and looking first at one man, then the other.

"Velociraptor?" Murdoc asks stunned.

"Named Jerry?" Russel adds, equally as stunned. 2D shuffles his feet and twitches as a chill runs the full length of his spine. A cold wind blows between the men, breaking the silence that had suddenly fallen over them.

"Um yeah? I err, saw one on telly once. And I like the name." he answers, grinning awkwardly and hoping they wouldn't ask him any more questions. Russel shakes his head clear and turns back to the still stunned bassist, deciding to ignore the young man.

"Whateva it is or called, I don' care. I jus' wan' it got rid of, coz I can' go down dere an' do anyt'ing, wit'out it screechin' at me an' tryin'a break out dah wall." Russel growls snapping Murdoc out of his daze. The drummer once again leans his face into the bassists with a dark scowl. Murdoc angrily balls his hands into tight fists, and punches them down towards the floor.

"I already told you, I didn' do it!" he screeches, spittle flying in all directions. He suddenly stops and looks hard at the drummer, a smile growing on his lips and a mischievous gleam shining in his odd eyes. "Don't tell me yer scared of the little thing." he adds quite calmly. Russel's mouth drops open in disbelief and he blinks hard at the old man. Suddenly bringing his teeth together with a sharp click, he leans his body back and looks the bassist up and down.

"Wha? I ain' scared. And doh I wouldn' exactly call it little, I wouldn' exactly call it Godzilla either. Mind you, it has already eaten dat polar bear. But I wouldn' say it would t'ink o' stoppin' at one. I mean if'n it does manage tah break out dat wall, I'm t'inkin' it would cut t'rough us like we was hardly a small snack. But why would I feel dere be a need fo' us tah be scared. Affa all, it's only a dinosaur." he sarcastically drones at the bemused bassist with a fake smile. Murdoc rolls his eyes and waves the large man off, pushing past him towards the kitchen door.

"Fine, if it'll stop you whinin' at me, I'll get rid of it." he grumbles, slamming open the kitchen door and storming inside. "Not that I'm admittin' any responsibility fer it!" he calls back through the closing door. 2D rubs his hand across the back of his chest, hoping Murdoc wouldn't guess it was him that accidentally brought the creature into existence.

"Whachew lookin' so ben' outta shape 'bout?" Russel suddenly asks, making 2D catch his breath. He grins awkwardly at the drummer, as he scans his mind for an answer.

"Oh um? Wot you said about it breakin' through the wall and comin' tah eat us." he mumbles at Russel. The drummer looks back at the kitchen door and chuckles.

"I wouldn' worry 'bout it D. It'd eat Murdoc first an' die 'o toxic shock, long afore it got even close tah us." he smiles, walking into the kitchen for a snack.

Later that night, 2D and Cortez are back in the now dinosaur free studio kitchen, building the young man's skills. The raven is a little nervous about the idea that the impostor had, had to be the one to remove the unwanted visitor. But hoped that although Russel had accused Murdoc of being the one that had conjured it, the bassist would still be focused on him as the one the bird had asked for help. He decides to pay close attention to anything the bassist said from this point, as a clue to any thoughts or feelings he might have on the matter. An hour later, the pair return to their respective rooms. The raven much more impressed with the keyboardists efforts that night.

_'Maybe amigo do much better, because Diablo geev heem reason?'_ the bird wonders as he settles down on the roof of the wagon, waiting for Murdoc to return.


	7. Angels with devil wings

Cortez had managed to find one of Murdoc's more obscure spell books. Something the old man had found in one of those bookshops you find, in a dark alley no one has ever heard of. The bassist had attempted a few spells from the book, but it had often turned out disastrously. Not simply because he typically did it drunk, but because the book was most probably written by the hand of a demon. Nevertheless, Cortez knew it had spells that could prove very useful to them.

Two spells in particular, had caught the raven's attention. One was a transfer spell. In it, you would cast your pentagram in typical fashion, remembering to call on the appropriate demonic forces to observe. After that, it then went on to tell you how to use the circle as a kind of doorway, to take you any place you wished to go in an instant. Murdoc had used it to go to Hell, to seek an audience with Satan. Because of a few mishaps however, he had abandoned it in favour of the Hell hole. The other spell centred on the production of a special piece of jewellery. Once again, you would cast your pentagram, but this time; use the power from it to make a bracelet. Made from the skin of a blessed cat, it had a white opal set in gold attached to it. After some ceremony and chanting, you would call on the necessary demon to grant the bracelet power. From that moment on, the stone would then be able to record the exact position of any of your newly cast circles, so it could be easily found again, if needed. Especially useful for transference circles, as it would record the point from which you had stepped out, because you needed to be in that exact position to leave again.

Right now though, the keyboardist was using one of Murdoc's standard issue spell-books. Learning how to summon demons so they could get Murdoc back, 2D would have to learn how to fight. Especially if what the impostor had said were true, and that some of the demons were looking to trap the old man. By summoning the demons, they could use them to either teach the young man how to fight, or at least find out which demons were working with the impostor, not that the raven wanted them to know where Murdoc was. The fewer that learned that piece of information, the better. However, the raven felt they had little choice. Who better to teach the young man to fight, than the demons themselves? So, after showing the keyboardist how to manufacture an appropriately strengthened weapon, he had moved on to teaching him how to summon. Once he could do that without difficulty, then he could move on to swordplay.

After spending all night summoning demons, 2D still seemed to be having problems with concentration. However, the bird put it down to him possibly being tired, so he ignored it. After all, Murdoc didn't have the luxury of time, while the two of them were up in Kong, messing about with demons. He was in Hell, hunted down by the impostor's friends. One thing that 2D had done surprised him though. He had made friends with some of the demons he had summoned, asking them how they were, and what their jobs were. He made it look like he was interested in them, and they in turn thought he was nice and funny. The keyboardist also thought they were nice, nothing he thought they would be. The raven reasoned that in small doses, 2D did seem to be a very nice and funny person. More than an hour with him would change your mind. It would go from funny and nice, to minor irritation. Anything after that would leave you wanting to kill him. The raven hoped that this could turn to an advantage. So long as he avoided the impostor's friends, and didn't let on why he was there, the more demon friends he had, the easier he'd be able to move through Hell. Today the young man would learn how to fight. Not that 2D was at all happy about it.

"But yah don' understand Cortez. I'm a Buddhist!" 2D wails, sword in hand, backing away from an eight-foot tall demon. The demon stops and turns to the raven, which squawks and hisses, encouraging the demon to continue. It shrugs and advances again.

"Just think of it as a game mate." it says to the terrified young man, slicing his weapon mere inches from 2D's chest. The keyboardist leaps back out of the way, with a yelp.

"Game! Are yah kiddin'? Yah near cut me in two then." 2D squeaks, diving away from another strike. The demon chuckles and advances again.

"Yeah I know. But I didn't, I missed. C'mon come at me, try to get me." it challenges, thrusting his weapon at the young man, who leaps backwards out of the way. 2D shakes his head, holding out his weapon and quaking with terror.

"But wot if I kill yah or sumfink?" he whines. The demon stops advancing and blinks at him, confused.

"Kill me? Err mate. I'm a demon. You can't really kill me. I'll just disappear and after a couple days, reappear back in Hell." it responds with a shrug, and then slices his blade at 2D's neck.

"Eep! That woz close. Okay, maybe I won' kill yah. But you could kill me if yah not careful." he whimpers, still reluctant to strike back.

"That's okay, coz if I did kill you, you'd turn up in Hell to." it grins, bringing it's blade down towards the keyboardists head. 2D falls down onto one knee, from the suddenness of the attack, finally leaping into action, bringing up his own weapon to block.

"But I don' wanna go to Hell." he replies, his voice faltering with effort as he presses his blade back into the demon's blade. With a sudden burst of strength, he shoves upwards, pushing the demon back, swiping at it and cutting it deeply on the upper arm. The demon looks down at the wound, then back up to the keyboardist. "Oh sorry."

"That's okay. Good block by the way. Betcha won't be able to do it again." it chuckles, bracing itself for another attack. 2D smiles and blushes.

"It woz good? Awww, thanks."

"Yeah, real good." it smiles and gives him the thumbs up. Cortez watches the two, shaking his head and hiding it under his wing.

_'Aye caramba. You chicas get married and have leetle bambinos later. I tryeeng to teach 2D how to fight now. You makeeng me sick.' _ The bird coughs and makes hacking noises, as if he was being sick. _'Look at me. I ill now. You no stop haveeng sex weef one another, I report you for cruelty to ravens.'_ Distracted by the bird's aggressive cawing. The large demon stops, putting his hands on his hips and turning on the bird angrily.

"Will you stop complaining!" A sudden pain in the stomach makes it look down. Not realizing the demon was distracted; 2D had thrust his weapon forward into his stomach. Seeing his weapon deeply embedded into the demon's flesh. The keyboardist lets go in shock, stepping back and covering his mouth with his hands.

"Oh I am so sorry." he gasps, because although he had let go, the weapon remained deep in the wound. The demon groans and staggers backwards, falling hard onto the ground and clutching it's stomach. It looks up at him; the demon's eyes wide with pain ans surprise. However it smiles regardless and nods.

"Nah, it's okay." it gasps. "Good play mate. See yah in a couple days." It salutes, dropping slowly onto its back. A second later, there is a blinding flash, and the demon vanishes. Leaving only a bloodied sword on the ground, as evidence it was ever there. Upset by what he had just done, 2D rushes from the room, tears stinging the corners of his eye holes, heading back to his bedroom and locking the door. Cortez watches his exit with disgust.

_'You weempy sissy pants! Eet only Diablo. He not hurt. He say he come back. Where are you goeeng? We no fineesh here! Aye, aye, aye. Eef he cry every time he keel one thees theengs, we never get Murdoc back.'_

It was three days before Cortez was able to get 2D to come back to training. Nevertheless, it was obvious the young man felt deeply sorry for what he had done. Even when he summoned the same demon back, he could not help but feel guilty. The demon was actually amused by how badly the young man felt. It did however make an effort to show him there was no real harm done.

"Honestly mate, you're just too nice. That sort of attitude won't do you any good in Hell. By the way, you and the raven never said exactly why you want to go down there." Cortez looks up instantly, hoping 2D was not about to tell the demon the truth. Instantly he sees the look on the keyboardists face. The raven opens it's beak to call out a warning.

"To get Murdoc back." The bird's eyes widen, and it slumps in disbelief. The demon's smile flinches and it slowly pulls away.

"Excuse me, what did you say?" it asks with a distinct coldness in it's voice. 2D furrows his brow, unsure as to what had changed to make his demon friend react like this.

"Mah, Murdoc? We're goin' tah get Murdoc back." 2D stammers.

"Murdoc as in, the horrible little green bassist?" the demon growls, slowly getting to it's feet. 2D nods, not sure what the demon was about to do. It walks over to the summoning circle, and stands in the middle of it.

"I like yah mate. Yah make me laugh, and yah don't get to do that much in Hell. Trust me, there's not much tah laugh at about down there. If you were goin' for any other reason, I'd of been happy tah help yah. But that....?" It shakes it's head, looking down at the floor. "Sorry mate, anythin' but that. Satan wants that guy, so thanks for lettin' me know where he is. I'm gunna haffta go find him, and hand him in. See yah." It gives the keyboardist a wave, and in a fiery flash, disappears. Suddenly an insanely furious raven attacks the young man.

_'Eediota! Why you tell heem?'_ Cortez screeches. 2D rolls onto his side and does his best to scramble out of the way.

"I didn' know!" the keyboardist yelps, covering his head as best as he can, as he runs away. Chased by the furious bird, he rushes into his bedroom, and slams the door closed, listening to the sound of pecking and scratching, as the bird takes his frustration out on the door. Frightened, he backs away, sitting on the edge of his bed and wringing his hands. After a while, silence falls on the room and 2D breathes a sigh of relief. He knew that being in Hell was a bad thing for the bassist, but why the bird had exploded in such a way bewildered him.

'Satan wants that guy." 2D thinks about those words carefully. "I'm gunna haffta go find him, and hand him in."

"Oh no, wot have I done?" 2D moans, hanging his head.

Back in Hell, Murdoc had done well to avoid a lot of contact with anyone. Moving quickly from area to area, he'd had to fight a few demons here and there, and of course the moment they came back, they let the others know about his presence. Up to now, he hadn't had much difficulty. He had been searching high and low, for the portal Satan had shown him, the last time he was in Hell and in the demon Lords "Good books." If he could make it there, all he had to do was step through it, and he would be back in Kong. However, he had been drunk at the time, and all the corridors looked the same to him. Right now though, he was listening to a very interesting conversation. Apparently, according to this large eight-foot major demon, 2D has just given him some information about the bassist being in Hell. Hearing this makes the old man angry, and he spits on the floor. What followed surprises him though. The demon then goes on to say that the keyboardist and the raven were planning to come down and rescue him. Murdoc blinks in astonishment and rubs the back of his head.

"Now Cortez I understand. But he's gotta be yankin' their chain about the Dullard? Betcha Faceache let it slip by accident." He chuckles and quickly moves away from the area, imagining Cortez pecking 2D furiously, turning him into a walking piece of Swiss cheese.


	8. Two for the road

2D is sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the side of his shoe. Still feeling awful for the mistake he had made the night before, he sighs and wonders if Cortez was still angry with him. He knew how hard it had been, for the raven to explain where the bassist was, and how he had gotten there. Although the raven had no way of giving the young man any details, so 2D's mistake was in a way, inevitable, at least to a certain degree. The raven had also explained about the impostor being a demon, although 2D had not really understood that completely, and still remained focused on the idea that Murdoc was possessed. 2D blamed himself for not completely understanding any of it, in the first place. Thinking that maybe if he wasn't slow in mind and unable to retain information for more than a few minutes at times, Murdoc would be back to his old self, and safe. He stops and thinks about that for a moment.

"So why do I haffta go down tah Hell again?" he ponders. He shakes off the thought with a sigh and looks down at his hands, studying the lines and creases.

Slowly he balls them into fists, turning them over to watch the way the skin stretches over the knuckles, them turning them back to look at his palms again, as he relaxes them. He could not help but to think how useless they were. Little more than lumps of flesh, muscle and bone. Just like the rest of him really, he thinks, looking down at the rest of himself, and feeling utterly hopeless. He lays back , resting his weight on his elbows. His whole body slumps as if wracked by exhaustion, his muscles limp and stringy. If it were not for his bones, he'd be little more than a globule of human skin, topped off with messy blue hair. He groans and drops down further on the bed, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing his tired eye holes with the heels of his palms. A mournful moan slips from his lips and slides around the room, traveling up to the ceiling and echoing around the corners. Until it falls gently back down to him, like a thousand autumn leaves. One by one landing on him and around him, buying him until only the toes of his shoes can be seen.

The passage of time seems to slip slowly through the air, and he feels as though he had lived a thousand years. It all seemed too heavy, much too heavy. Weighing him down and suffocating his senses. He sighs again and slides his hands down from his eyes, folding them together on his stomach. The flickering light from the giant Pong screens, draw his attention and he turns his head to look at them. Back and forth the little cursor ball bounces. Bloop, bloop, bloop. The sound almost an echo of the dull numbness he feels in his soul, as if it had been snatched away in the night, leaving a gaping wound in it's place. His smile and personality stripped away, leaving little more than a plastic shell behind, a plastic doll. Row upon row of plastic 2Ds. Fake smiles, and pointy plastic hair. Hundreds of them, thousands of them, all lined up like soldiers, stretching out toward the horizon, and not a one of them unique to another. Bloop, bloop, bloop.

He turns his head again and looks up at the ceiling. A crack in the paintwork high above him, catches his eye. He slightly tips his head toward his shoulder, staring at the crack, trying to bring his vision clear. It still comes back to him, as little more than a dull blur. Nonetheless, he tries. The crack seems to be growing, longer and wider, pieces of plaster and flakes of paint falling down on him. A rumble seems to grow in the distance. The room shaking and causing objects to fall from the shelves. He furrows his brow and sits up, not sure if he is imagining it or not. A sharp crack, like snapping timbers makes him flinch and turn his head towards the sound, as the room begins to shake even more violently, Keyboards fall from the walls, one of them bouncing off the bed and falling to the floor. He turns his head rapidly from side to side, trying to take it all in, gripping the bed tightly in his fingers, gasping with panic. Was this an Earthquake? There is another cracking sound from above him at the ceiling, splinters of wood raining down all around him. He snaps his face up towards the sound, raising his arms over his head to protect himself, just as a huge clawed hand reaches down from the gaping hole in the ceiling, it's fingers wrapping around him tightly and lifting him high off the bed, carrying him upwards to the hole and whatever menacing force lay beyond it.

2D screams and sits up, sheets of sweat coating his body, panting furiously. He leaps from under the bedclothes and looks about. However, nothing seems to of changed. Walking rapidly across the room, he snaps on the light, checking the ceiling. Squinting hard, he sees there is no crack, or any sign that there had been one. He lowers his eyes to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck, confused. Had he dreamed it, all of it? Did this mean that Murdoc was safe? That he didn't need to go down to Hell? That he had not really been learning how to fight and summon demons at all, and he was just being silly. He drops his hand from the back of his neck, and weakly reaches for the light switch, switching the light off again. Slowly he negotiates his way through the dark room, lit only by the giant Pong screens, and drops limply back onto the side of the bed. Bloop, bloop, bloop. He runs his hands back through his messy blue hair, while looking down at the sides of his bare feet, for a second lost in a daze. Sliding his hands down to the back of his neck, he holds them there for a moment, pressing his fingertips gently into the place where his neck meets his skull. Slowly a smile creeps up the corners of his mouth, and he begins to chuckle about how silly it all sounded. Of course Murdoc didn't need him and Cortez to rescue him. He waves it all off and lays back down, pulling the bedclothes back over himself. He settles half propped by his pillow, and reaches over to his side table, sliding a cigarette from his pack, and lighting it. He drops the lighter back down, and rests his head back on the headboard, picking under one of his fingernails with the other, watching a faint smoke trail gently move through the air from the cigarette resting between his lips. He draws heavily, the ashen end of the cigarette glowing brightly in the dim light, the sound of burning and hissing from it, just a little too loud in the quiet of the room. He lifts a hand and takes the cigarette from his mouth, thinking as he blows a long trail of smoke toward the Pong screens. Smiling again, he settles further down in the bed, dropping his head onto the pillow, and gazing up into the inky depths of the ceiling.

"I fink some right silly fings at times." he giggles to himself.

The next morning at breakfast, 2D is sitting at the table, head down, cheek resting on the tables cool surface, fast asleep. Murdoc walks in and kicks out a chair, disturbing the young man. The keyboardist snaps wide-awake and yawning, sits up, scratching the back of his head. He turns to say good morning to the bassist, but instantly sees the dullness in the old man's eyes. It had not been a dream at all. This was not Murdoc.

Realizing he could not waste any more time, and determined to make up for his mistake. 2D decides to just get down to the Hell hole room, and rescue the old man himself. He knew his fighting skills were non-existent, but he hoped to avoid a lot of that, by simply hiding as much as possible. Just to be on the safe side, he would take his weapon. Grabbing his backpack and specially made bracelet, he loads the spell books and a few jars of ingredients into the bag. Stopping and thinking carefully to make certain he did not forget anything. He mentally goes over a few of the defensive spells he had learned, opening the bag again and rechecking the ingredients. He decides to bring a bottle of Scotch and an extra pack of cigarettes to be sure, shoving them into the bag as well. Then going over the mental list one more time, he satisfies himself that he has everything, and closes the bag. Picking up his weapon, he heads for the lift shaft. Cortez is sitting on the Winnie's roof lamenting the loss of his master, when he sees 2D out of the corner of his eye. He nearly falls off the wagon when he spots the young man step through the hole in the car park wall.

_'Ce? What that hombre theenk he doing!'_ Cortez splutters, taking off at great speed to try and stop him. The bird lands on the railing of the lift, as 2D presses the down button and the lift begins to move.

"No Cortez. I messed up and I'm gunna make it right." the young man snaps, brushing the raven aside as it tries to step on the stop button. "Look, stop it will yah. Just go back to the Winnie, okay?" The bird pecks his arm and continues trying to step on the button, filled with dread of what he imagined would happen to the young man, if he went down to Hell so unprepared. Not that he cared about the young man, but more that he didn't fancy the idea of starting again with anyone else. Although, he is impressed with the keyboardists determination. 2D roughly shoves the bird aside one more time, not being careful or gentle any more. Finally the raven backs away. He looks at the young man's body language and the firm expression etched into his face, and can plainly see the keyboardist really meant it. Regardless of what the bird wanted him to do, he had every intention of going through with this.

_'I get you wrong amigo. You is annoying and stoopeed, si. But you is one brave hombre. You goeeng to die, but that okay, I make sure Murdoc know what you deed. Adiós amigo.' _The raven takes flight again, soaring up to the top of the lift shaft. He circles high overhead a moment, thinking. A whole range of emotions run through him. Fear, anger, sadness, loneliness, all seem to be pouring out of him, down into the depths of the shaft like a waterfall. He presses them back refusing to allow himself to be affected by them, but that just seems to make them rage higher and higher, consuming him until he can no longer stand it. Finally overcome, he dives down into the hole again, with one beat of his huge black wings.

_'He my master, eet only right I be there to. Beside, that hombre need me to protect heem.' _ 2D looks up as the bird swoops down, and finally lands on the railing again, he grits his teeth angrily, and turns away from him.

"Cortez, I said I gotta do this!" he snaps as the lift finally reaches the bottom. The young man moves to jump down from the platform, when it occurs to him that the raven had not done anything to stop him. He pauses and looks back at the black bird, which gazes back at him silently. "Are you gunna help me?" he asks the raven. The bird bobs it's head as if nodding, and the keyboardist sighs heavily with relief. Tightening his grip on the handle of his weapon, he jumps down from the platform, and slides the backpack onto his back. The raven flits ahead to sit on the overturned cabinet, and as 2D approaches leaps up onto the young man's shoulder. They both look firmly ahead as they round the corner, walking steadily to the boiler room door, and the Hell hole room beyond it.

Closing the Hell hole room door and dropping the backpack to the floor, 2D gazes down the small flight of steps to the fiery hole and shudders. Taking a piece of chalk from his pocket, he leans down and begins to draw out a transfer circle, mentally going through the spell carefully in his mind. Cortez sits on the ground close by, observing, making sure the young man didn't make any mistakes. The raven is almost astonished that the young man seemed to be doing it quite easily, almost as if he had been performing the ritual all his life. However, as the ritual comes to an end, and it is time to step into the circle, the raven cannot help but cross his toes. The last thing they needed was to appear as frogs on the other side, or some other ridiculous thing. They step in and a moment later, the room fills with a blinding light.

"I fink it worked?" 2D says to the bird, as he looks at the brightly glowing bracelet, as he slides it onto his wrist. He looks up and gazes around the room, wrinkling his nose at how badly everything seemed to smell to him.

"I can see that stoopeed." Cortez replies. 2D snaps his head around, staring in astonishment at the raven, nearly dropping the backpack in his hand.

"Cortez, I can understand you! You, you spoke." he splutters, pointing at the bird. The raven looks back at him incredulously, cocking his head to one side.

"What you talk about hombre? I no speak monkey!" he snaps back, looking the young man up and down in disgust.

"Monkey?" 2D asks, raising an eyebrow, Cortez pulls away from him in shock and surprise.

"Holy caca! You can understand me." he gasps. "What you do to me bastardo? When we find Murdoc, I goeeng...." He stops mid-sentence thinking, then slowly looks down at the dusty floor of the long corridor they seem to of appeared in, not sure if he really needed to finish the sentence.

"It does make fings easier...., don' it?" 2D mumbles. Cortez looks up at him, and slowly bobs his head.

"Si. I just teenk that myself. We go now." the bird replies. 2D smiles and pulls on the backpack, and choosing a direction, they begin their journey. "You know, eet would be better eef you had geeven me hands. Weef them thumbs like you have. Thumb's good. Those theengs seem to come een handy. Ha! I make funny." Cortez says with a chuckle as they turn a corner.


	9. Welcome to Hell

Tired and with his nerves shot to pieces, 2D stops walking and sits raven looks around them both frantically, and tries desperately to urge and harass the young man back to his feet. The keyboardist ignores the bird, instead sliding the backpack from his back and dropping it down on the floor beside him. He picks it up again and drops it between his splayed legs, opening it and rummaging around inside, taking out the bottle of Scotch and opening it. The raven finally gives in and stands guard, watching as best as he can for any signs of movement. The young man takes a few mouthfuls from the bottle, closing his eyes and savouring the taste, before closing the bottle and putting it back. Feeling a little better, he places his hands behind him, and leans his weight back on them, finally taking in the scenery around them both.

They had stopped in what appeared to be a ravine, its high stony walls reaching up beyond eyesight, disappearing into inky blackness, occasionally broken by a smoky trail of faint light. Deep blood red colors, like an evil kind of aurora, they would float by slowly, until once again swallowed by the overwhelming darkness. The walls themselves were chalky red in color. Lightly dusting off if brushed against in places and mixing with the thick dust that made up the floor of the ravine. Sometimes if they moved too quickly across the floor, it would kick up a choking cloud that seemed to burn their lungs and throats, forcing them to stop and cough loudly until it settled. The caverns were little better. Stony floors and smooth wet looking walls, but the air inside was so hot that it almost hurt to breathe at all. Occasionally they would pass through cool spots, but the moment they stepped beyond them, a wave of heat would move over them like a smothering sheet, almost feeling as if it was sucking the very breath from their lungs. Cortez had found it exhausting to fly any great distance, and had spent most of the time riding either on the young man's shoulder, or on top of the backpack. However, this had also proved to be a burden, as the heat from their bodies seemed to mingle with the air around them, and made it feel even more oppressive. Obviously walking was out of the question for him, so he had begun flying short distances ahead and scouting out the area, using the time to rest in, as he waited for the young man to catch him up.

So far, they had managed to avoid a lot of contact with demons. 2D's plan of hiding as much as possible proving worthwhile. They would occasionally see one of the smaller ones, similar to the ones seen in Kong. However, after a previous run-in with one of them, they had realized that these particular kinds of demons tended to mind their own business. So there was no need to hide from them. Most seemed to be in a hurry, rushing past them muttering angrily to themselves, and hardly looking up to even see them, let alone anything else. Unfortunately for 2D, by about this point, it seemed that his inability to retain large amounts of information had started to affect his thinking, and he had already forgotten much of the reason for him doing all of this.

The small minor demons were not the only kind of demon that existed in this part of Hell, as the companions had soon discovered, when they had suddenly come across a medium sized one, walking along just up ahead of them. Standing at around 2D's height, with clawed hands, pointed ears, bright glowing eyes and huge shoulders, the demons muscular arms rippled as it firmly walked in their direction. The two had pressed themselves tightly into the shadows, as there had been nowhere else to go. Coming closer and closer, 2D shut his eyes tightly and swore quietly to himself, about how huge he thought the creature was. Pleading with whatever forces were available, for the demon to just turn around and go away. Fortunately, it had turned a corner just up from them and moved away. For 2D, this had left a huge impression, giving him pause to wonder why Cortez had brought him down here in the first place. After yet another near run-in, with a similarly sized demon and a few moments later, a small group of them, the young man had, had enough, and sat down. Cortez hoped that Murdoc was having more luck.

Unfortunately for the bassist, he was not. After getting into a brawl with one of the larger demons, he was punched unconscious by a group of medium ones, which had laid a trap for him. One of the demons then picked him up, and carried him down a corridor, to an obscure room in one of the deeper levels. This is where the impostor's plan had begun to fall into place, because these particular demons, were the impostor's friends. Not intending to allow the bassist to fall into Satan's hands, they had dug a hole into a wall of this room, and had a coffin waiting for him. The room itself was small, little more than a storeroom, its dusty and almost dilapidated condition gave the impression it was hardly if ever used. One of the demons opens the lid of the coffin, while two others roughly deposit the unconscious bassist inside. They close the lid and with little effort, feed the box into the hole in the wall, and roughly fill it back in, covering their work; they shove a few boxes in front of it. They chuckle to one another as they leave, locking the door behind them.

"Welcome to Hell, you old green bastard." One of the demons growl with a sarcastic grin, as they leave. The others chuckle and high five each other, then head off back to their regular duties.

A while later, and unaware of this devastating development, 2D is in his own devastating situation. Standing in front of both he and Cortez, is one of his demon friends. The young man grips the handle of his weapon tightly, and eyes him cautiously, as the two of them step slowly back and forth in front of each other. He clenches his jaw tightly, sweat building on his brow and running down his temples in little rivers, wishing his friend would somehow change his mind and let him go. _"Why did Cortez want him down here again?"_ he thinks, stumbling a little over his feet. He was sure the old man had simply been possessed, but every now and then... The demon steps forwards a little, snapping him back to attention. He moves back and forth again, pacing like a tiger, hoping that it would change its mind.

"Sorry mate, but I can't go easy on yah this time." It growls, and moves in. 2D whimpers and quickly checks behind him. Cortez flits back there to keep watch for him, making sure no one ambushes him.

"Eet okay. I watch for you." Cortez call. 2D takes a breath and moves forward tremulously, not actually wanting to fight his friend at all, but seeing little choice. _'How is this gunna help?'_ 2D continues to think. He is certain that all that he and the raven had to do, was get a priest to help. Even though one of the books he had read had suggested that this was not a nice thing to do to a Satanist. _'Seriously, why am I down here?'_ He curses his dim mind and clenches his jaw even harder.

The corridors echo loudly with the clang of metal on metal, occasionally peppered with grunts of effort from the two fighters. 2D dodges and weaves, more with fright than expertise, his thin lithe body, more able to move in the tight corridor, than his larger more muscular opponents. The demon twists and turns back and forth, trying to keep up with him, becoming more and more frustrated. Suddenly, 2D trips on his own feet, falling flat on his stomach with a grunt. Cortez gasps as he sees the demon turn toward the sprawled keyboardist.

"Look out amigo!" the raven screeches, as the demon spies the still sprawled young man, and raises his weapon, leaning down over him ready to strike. 2D rolls and blindly thrusts his weapon upwards, straight into the thin skin of the demons throat. A gush of blood spurts out, covering the young man's face and arm. The look of horror and shock etched into his opponents face makes 2D cringe away and roll onto his side, as the demon falls forwards onto the ground next to him. It disappears in a blinding flash, leaving the weapon behind. The young man shakily turns back and picks up his sword again, looking down at the blood on his arm.

"I feel sick." 2D moans, and a few seconds later he retches and throws up. Cortez silently keeps watch as the young man does his best to clean himself up. The keyboardist swallows hard, trying to suck clean air into his lungs, the taste of bile in his mouth making him feel as if he is about to throw up again. Shakily he slides the Scotch bottle from the pack and gulps back a few mouthfuls, the sharpness on his tongue waking his senses a little, making him feel better. He sits back on his heels and closes his eyes for a moment, relaxing his body and calming himself, before returning the bottle to the bag and standing up, sliding the pack over his arm and onto his back.

"You do good amigo, but you need to stop feeling so bad, or you go mad. Down here, that keel you." the raven mutters. 2D moves to stand next to the bird, head bowed low. He glances away down the corridor, a little angry that the raven still did not seem to understand why he felt so bad with all this. He opens his mouth to explain himself again, but seeing the look the raven was giving him, he realized it would be a complete waste of time. The raven would never understand. He relaxes his posture and turns away, continuing on down the corridor, Cortez close behind him.

A few battles later, Cortez concludes that the keyboardist is either the luckiest person in the world, or the strangest, but most brilliant tactician he has ever seen. The keyboardist is not so concerned with the raven's thoughts of his abilities. He is still trying, not only, to deal with the fact that he will most likely have to slash his way through more of his demon friends, before this is over, but also that he cannot seem to remember some of the details that had lead him down here in the first place. Now much deeper in the catacombs of Hell, 2D is still annoyed with himself as he continues to try and understand how any of this was going to help the bassist. That part he could kind of remember. That Murdoc needed help. _'Woz it a mind they woz lookin' for? Why would Murdoc want a mind, or woz it Satan? Maybe they woz lookin' in completely the wrong place. Where would Satan keep a trapped mind anyway?'_ He suddenly stops walking, now more confused than ever, and tries to remember what Cortez had tried to tell him back in Kong. Something had fallen into a hole. He suddenly gets the image of the impostor and it sparks a small memory. Was that guy a demon? He looks down at the floor and sees the raven looking back up at him, grumbling about wanting him to keep looking. He knows he could ask the raven, but he was certain it would freak out and attack him again. The young man unconsciously flinches at the thought, and with a sigh keeps walking. _'Maybe this mind thing wot has fallen in the hole, is trapped in some cell down heya, waitin' to be found?'_ He shakes his head to clear it, and decides to ask a question to hint at the reason they were walking through Hell, looking for something.

"You fink maybe they have a dungeon or sumfink down heya?" he asks the raven; stopping and watching the bird fly past him. The raven slows and flaps to the ground, looking back at the young man.

"Ce? Um amigo, look around." the raven replies, cocking his head to one side. 2D looks all around him, then back at the bird, which smiles and nods at him. "You een Hell. Dees whole place ees a dungeon. Eediota." the bird growls and disgusted, walks away a few steps. 2D presses a finger to his bottom lip realizing that was not the right question to ask.

"Oh yeah. Heh, heh. Didn' fink of it like that." he blushes, and with a nervous chuckle walks on ahead, trying to think of a better way to ask, without looking even more stupid than he felt right now. Cortez stares open beaked at the young man as he passes him. Frozen to the floor and unable to move.

"Didn't teenk of eet that way! What, you loco or someteenk? Aye caramba, I steel want to know why I no get that fat eediot. He no feenk stupido feengs like you. Bah!" the raven complains bitterly, shaking his head and finally taking flight again, to catch up with the keyboardist.


	10. A fools errand

Back in Kong, 2D and Cortez's disappearance had not gone completely unnoticed, the raven's especially. The impostor now realized that it had been the keyboardist, that the raven had chose to help him find the bassist. He felt like kicking himself for assuming that Russel would have been the best choice, and for wasting his time watching the large man. Now it seemed obvious to him why 2D was the better option. No one could possibly of guessed it. The impostor waved it off at first, believing his demon friends would deal with them. However, by the next day that confidence had evaporated. He had assumed that one of his friends would join him in Kong, but the more he thought about it, the more he could not help wonder if that would occur to them. Worried that they would make a mistake, and land them all in deep trouble with Satan, he decides to go down there himself, and deal with the situation, personally.

As soon as the impostor steps into the Hell hole room, he feels the cold presence of 2D's circle. The bassist looks around on the floor for it, but the power pouring from the hole had already erased it visually. Annoyed, he leans down and uses the faint sensation of its power, to try to find the circles starting point. By taking that point, where the chalk had first made contact with the ground, the demon could use his powers to unravel it, and trap the raven and the keyboardist in Hell forever. Then all he would have to do, is call one of his demon friends to join him in Kong, to take 2D's form and place. He holds his hand over the area, and searches vainly, but it quickly becomes obvious that the sensation was far too faint to show him where to begin unraveling it. He swears to himself, annoyed that he had not come down sooner. Now it seemed he would indeed have to enter Hell himself, and deal with them both face to face.

Walking down the small flight of steps, to the very edge of the fiery hole, the impostor cannot help but wonder how the real Murdoc had felt, stepping down and seeing him floating there before him. He smiles at the memory of the old man loosing his balance and falling into the hole. Chuckling it off and taking a deep breath, he raises his arms and draws the Hellish power to him Slowly his feet lift from the floor, and he floats out to the center of the hole. With one glance down into the depths, he drops into the hole with nothing more, than a roar of flames.

The raven and the keyboardist were already dealing with a problem. One of the small minor demons is pacing up and down before them. Thinking that perhaps if he brought the two trespassers to his Dark Lord personally, he could possibly win favor with him, it continues walking back and forth, trying to figure out the best way to capture them without help. 2D holds out his weapon, keeping the small creature at bay. The demon growls at him, trying to appear threatening.

"I don' wanna fight yah. I'm here for sumfink else." 2D explains, watching the little demon carefully. It stops pacing and tips it's head slightly to its shoulder, eying the scared young man.

"Yeah I know, you're here for the bassist. He's dead, so you come with me." It snarls, curling its lips back over its needle sharp teeth with a grin. Cortez ruffles his feathers angrily. The bird knows better. If Murdoc had died, he would have been the first to feel it, aside from the old man obviously. The fact that this small demon thought he could trick him with this obvious lie annoys him greatly.

"Dead? I fought he woz possessed, or sumfink? Wait, ain' we here for... No, I dunno." 2D complains, more confused than before. The raven looks at the young man incredulously, but quickly turns his attention back to the little creature, not wanting the insult on his intelligence to pass.

"You no fool me leetle Diablo. I a messenger and heem no dead, so run along before I peck you eyes out." the raven snarls. The small demon grits its teeth, nervously glancing from the raven to the keyboardist. It grumbles to itself, irritated that it had failed to recognize a messenger, but decides to stick with its lie in the hopes that it would still be able to fool the bird.

"Yes he is, and Satan would like to see you to. If you come with me, I can prove to you that the bassist is dead, and then we can go see Satan." 2D looks from the creature to the raven, still confused, but hoping to glean enough information from their conversation to work it all out. The raven slits his eyes at the creature and hisses.

"So Murdoc is heya? But I... Nope I still don' fink I understand it." 2D mutters, dropping his guard and pressing a finger to his bottom lip. The raven shakes his head at the young man dumbfounded, as the little demon blinks at him in confusion himself.

"Don't he know why he's here?" It asks the bird. Cortez bows his head and exasperated, looks down at the floor.

"No. Coz he ees stupido. Si Murdoc ees here, that why we here. Don't you leesten when... What I sayeeng, of course you no leesten." The bird grumbles, keeping watch on the little demons movements. 2D looks down at him in annoyance.

"Well'w yeah. I listened, but I kind'a forgot some bits and now I'm just, well, confused. That's all." he moans. The memories start to whirl painfully through his mind again, and he rubs his eye holes trying to press them away. The little demon notices that both he and the raven have stopped paying close attention to him, and takes a small step froward. Cortez notices the movement, and decides he has had enough. He flies at the little creature, flapping his wings into its face and clawing at its eyes with his feet.

"I teel you already Diablo. You no fool me, Murdoc ees alive and we get heem back." The little demon screams in pain and fright, brushing away the bird. Covering its bleeding face with its hands, it races down the corridor and out of sight. Cortez drops to the ground and watches its exit with a slight grin. 2D turns and looks down at him a little surprised.

"You scared the piss outta him." He mumbles, lazily pointing his weapon down the corridor in the direction the creature had run. Getting serious again, he shakes his head. "But wait, how do yah know he weren' tellin the truth?" The raven sighs and looks up at the still confused keyboardist. He had tried so hard to explain this whole plan to the young man, and now it seemed this had come undone because 2D was incapable of holding a single thought in his head long enough, to make much of a difference. However, now that he was here, perhaps it did not matter that he didn't know the reasons, or had forgotten the details. He decides to at least explain what he was regardless; the young man was bound to forget about it later anyway.

"I am the messenger of muerte." he replies with a half sigh.

"Who's muerte? I fought you woz Muds pet." 2D asks still confused. The raven shakes his head in disbelief and flutters up to sit on the young man's shoulder.

"Wha, no? Muerte, you know. Greem Reaper? What that word?" the raven ponders, searching his memory for the English translation. "Murdoc ees my master.... But I no ones pet." He adds quietly, annoyed at the suggestion that he belonged to anyone but himself.

"Grim Reaper? Oh, do you mean death?" 2D asks, making his way down the corridor. Cortez bobs his head excitedly; almost proud, that 2D had understood that.

"Si, si death." he squawks. "That why I know Murdoc ees alive, and that leetle Diablo just playeeng games. I am messenger of Death. Okay?" 2D smiles at the bird and they continue their search for the bassist.

The impostor makes his way firmly through the corridors, not stopping to consider the fact that he had not reverted to demon form on arrival. Turning a corner, he comes face to face with a group of medium sized minor demons. He ignores them and takes a step forward, to continue on his way, when suddenly they all rush at him, grabbing at his arms and tearing at his skin. Hearing one of them mutter something about him being Murdoc, he realizes his mistake.

"I'm not him you fools!" he roars, fighting back. However, they do not believe him, and come at him again. The impostor snarls and in a bright burst of hot blue flames, changes in front of them. They leap back out of the way, shading their eyes with their arms. There before them, now stands a huge major demon. Its eyes burning with rage, ten-feet high, with massive wings and huge clawed hands. The impostor roars at them, making them quake with fear and back away, bowing their heads respectfully and mumbling apologies at him. He grits his teeth at them and approaches, shoving them aside as he continues his search. The shaking demons watch his exit, looking at each other and muttering, wondering why he had taken the bassist's form in the first place.

It does not take long for Satan to hear about the goings on in his realm. The Dark Lord shakes his heavy head, and wonders who had handed out the invitations? He sits back and taps his long talons on the arms of his throne, after listening to a report about a raven and a blue-haired keyboardist, who were apparently wandering around the corridors of Hell. Thinking that it must be some kind of bad joke, and in a moment a jester would appear in the center of the room and shout surprise, he waits. Time seems to pass slowly for everyone standing in front of the unimpressed Lord, and the sounds of Hell echo loudly around the dimly lit room. Nothing had happened, so the Dark Lord concludes that this was not a joke, and someone really was randomly inviting people in, without asking his permission. However, when the name Murdoc strikes his pointed ears, his whole mood changes and he does not appear to be so concerned with the other two trespassers.

"He's here, bring him to me!" Satan demands, jabbing a pointed talon to the ground before him almost excitedly, but with a deep guttural growl. The demons that had brought him the report look at one another nervously and shrug.

"Well here as in Hell. Not here as in, well here." One of them mumbles, swallowing hard as a bead of sweat makes its way down his cheek. Satan stares at the speaker for a moment, not sure whether to take him seriously or not. The tension builds in the room and the Lords personal guards shuffle their feet and clear their throats, breaking the deadly silence that fills the room at that moment. Realizing that was everything the demon had to say, and that he was not being funny and had no idea where the bassist was, Satan roars like a ferocious tiger and storms over to the speaker, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him from the floor.

"Well then I suggest that you go and find him, and bring him here." He hisses into the medium sized demon's face. The others, still kneeling on the floor in front of the Dark Lord, shuffles back and out of range, just as Satan tosses the speaker from the room like a rag doll. They turn their heads and watch their hapless companion sail through the air a short distance, before hitting the floor with a thud, and sliding along it and out the door, tumbling down a small flight of stairs with a yelp. They turn and look back at their angrily snorting Lord, thinking perhaps they had better do as their told and leave, before he did the same to them. They quickly bow their heads, and rapidly leave the room.

"And don't you dare forget about those other two, either!" Satan roars after them. They stop at the top of the stairs and slowly look back at him, then quickly race down the steps to retrieve their crumpled companion, before making their exit.

Now that it had become obvious that the demons now knew of their presence, as it was now harder for 2D to avoid contact, he and Cortez manage to make their way to a small room, and lock themselves in. The raven watches the young man pace up and down the room, muttering to himself as he thinks. He suddenly remembers something about spells and stops pacing, turning to the bird and furrowing his brow.

"Wot we need, is tah like be invisible or sumfink." He states firmly, jabbing his finger at the raven. "Is there like a spell for that?" the raven looks hard at him; not appreciating the suggestion in 2D's voice, that this was entirely his fault. However, understanding the urgency of the situation, he bows his head and thinks carefully.

"No. Not that I remember." He finally answers, looking back up at the young man's face. 2D slumps with disappointment, and rubs his arm nervously, looking towards the locked door. His nervous tensions builds steadily, and he looks back at Cortez, wishing he had not come down here, and it was all a horrible dream.

"Well'w how are we gunna do this, wif all that lot tryin' tah kill us? He snaps, pointing angrily at the door. Cortez slits his eyes and ruffles his feathers, even more irritated that the young man believed he could snap at him like this.

"Don't blame me for thees, caca head." He snaps back. Suddenly he remembers seeing something in one of the books, and brightens up. "Wait! We no have to be eenvisable." 2D raises an eyebrow; not quite believing the bird was taking the situation so lightly.

"Ah yeah, we do." He grimaces, leaning his weight back on one hip, as he looks the bird up and down incredulously. Surely, Cortez could see what to him seemed perfectly obvious.

"I hope you breeng that dark book." Cortez mutters, as he rummages through the backpack. 2D stares blankly ahead, mouthing the word book, but having no clue as to what the bird was talking about. The raven pulls out the book and drops it onto the floor near the keyboardist's feet. The young man looks down and shrugs, sitting down in front of the book. He opens it and begins turning the pages, waiting for Cortez to tell him what he had been talking about.

"There, there!" the raven squeaks, flapping his wings and pecking the bottom of the page. 2D reads the spell slowly to himself, taking in the information as the bird slowly watches. When finished, the young man closes the book and smiles down at the raven, his confidence now lifted.

"Cortez, you're a genius." He chuckles, ruffling the ravens head feathers. The bird puffs out his chest and coos proudly.

"I know."


	11. If you can't beat em

A medium sized demon walks down one of the many winding corridors, followed awkwardly by a smaller one. The medium one turns his head and looks back at his companion as he walks along.

Wot is wrong wif you? You're walkin' like yah feet are on fire or sumfink. It complains with a growl. The little one looks up angrily, as it finally catches up to its much taller companion.

Shut up! Eet easy for you, you used to thees kind of body. I no know how to work all thees theengs. He snaps in reply, wobbling a little unsteadily and grumbling to himself as he looks down at his feet, he looks back up at him flashing his needle sharp teeth. Eet feel like I about to fall over or someteeng.

Look Cortez, I know it might be difficult, butcha gotta try tah walk better or we're gunna get caught. Okay? 2D says, looking around nervously. The raven rolls his black demon eyes and waves the keyboardist off, gritting his teeth hard and sucking a sharp hiss through them.

Si, si. He moans in annoyance. I try. He pokes his tongue out at the young man, and looks back down at his feet, taking a wobbling step forwards and flailing his arms out at his sides for balance.

The raven had pointed out a transformation spell to the keyboardist, and after a little searching, found some of the things needed to temporarily turn them into demons, the perfect cover, given where they were. Unfortunately for the raven, 2D had forgotten most of his training, and turned Cortez into a green giraffe, a penguin and a two-headed tortoise, before he finally got it right. However the raven was willing to forgive this, so long as he got Murdoc back.

Finally transformed into one of the smaller demons, the next task was trying to make the cover work for him. The problem was, that the bird had never used this kind of body before. His head was used to preceding his body, not being directly over it, and now it felt like he was falling backwards all the time. To compensate, he kept bringing his head forwards, trying to walk stooped over. However, this made him unsteady and he would sometimes stumble over his own feet, as his heavy head made him feel as though he had to run to catch up with it. 2D had benefited from his change. Transformed into one of the medium demons, with large pointed ears and clawed hands, his new demon body was stronger and he no longer had eight-ball fractures in his eyes, so his vision was clearer than it had been in years. His fiery red eyes seemed to burn and he could not help but smile at all the sights around him, studying things and details closely, taking advantage of his new found vision while he still had it. The young man looks down at the grumbling raven and shrugs, not sure how to pluck up his confidence.

The raven sighs in frustration and continues down the corridor, doing his best to walk with more confidence. A few seconds later, they turn a corner and come face to face with a group of demons. 2D and Cortez freeze to the spot, terrified that their disguise just might not work. The larger of the demons marches steadily up to them, with a hard firm grimace on its face.

Any sign? it growls at the terrified pair, stopping in front of them.

Sorry? 2D asks, looking from it to Cortez and back again. The large demon rolls its eyes and folds its arms over its chest in frustration, leaning its weight heavily onto one hip.

Of the intruders or that bassist! it snaps. Cortez awkwardly kicks 2D hard in the ankle, keeping his head bowed low respectfully for the larger demon. 2D looks down at him for a moment, then back up at the demon.

Ow, oh. Oh, right um, no. No we haven't, err sir. 2D answers, snapping to attention and saluting. The demon blinks at him in surprise, as he slowly unfolds his arms. He glances back at his equally confused companions, who shrug at him and shake their heads, not sure how to react to 2D's response themselves. So he turns back to 2D and awkwardly salutes back.

Er yeah, um? Cah, carry on. it stutters, still not sure what to make of the odd saluting demon. The pair then hurry away, Cortez still having trouble with his balance. The confused demon eyes his odd walk as he passes him, with suspicion and calls after them again.

Wait! firmly he approaches them as they come to a stop, and slowly turn to look back at the suspicious demon. It stops in front of the raven and leans down slitting his eyes and looking hard at him. Why are you walking like your legs have been put on backwards? he growls, poking a long talon into the raven's chest.

He fell. 2D answers sharply, making the demon look back up at him.

He fell? the demon questions, raising an eyebrow at the keyboardist. 2D nods firmly, then grins awkwardly.

Err yeah, kind'a. You know? he replies, finally looking down at the floor nervously. The demon thinks for a moment, then slowly the memory of many demons before, being tossed head first out of Satan's throne room slips through his mind. He mouths a silent 'oh' and stands upright, nodding.

Satan. Yeah I getcha. Fell, with help. Never mind, carry on. It smiles and walking away with a backward salute, rejoins its group. Breathing a sigh of relief, the keyboardist and the raven hurry along, and out of sight, putting as much distance as possible between them. However, they are grateful that at least this meeting had proved their disguise works.

Murdoc wakes up and instantly tries to sit up, banging his already aching head on the lid of the box. He swears under his breath and tries to raise a hand to cradle his head, but realizes there is not much room above him. He slowly lifts his hand to try and gage how much distance there is, and then slides it around to try and work out what is surrounding him. Blinking in the darkness he furrows his brow, a little confused, but sure that he has woken in a box. Not sure how he had gotten there, but sure he wanted out, he shrugs and decides to work out the why of it later. He lifts his hands again, pressing his palms up against the lid, and pushes, trying to open it. It creaks a little, but does not seem to budge, so he presses harder, listening to the sound of the wood straining with his effort. Still it does not budge, so he stops to think about it. Pressing his chin to his chest, he lifts up his head as high as he can, trying to look down towards his feet. The darkness seems to have swallowed him, and he gives in, laying his head back down again. He raises his arms again, squeezing them back behind the top of his head, feeling the back of the box. Pressing hard against it, he shifts his body down in the box, until his feet touch the other end. Moving just a little lower down, until his knees are slightly bent, he settles himself, then raises one knee as high as the lid of the box will allow and kicks out at the bottom of the box, using his thick Cuban heel like a hammer. After three solid kicks, he begins to hear the wood making splintering and cracking sounds. Spurned on by this, he slides himself down just a little lower, and kicks out again, pressing his hands on the wall behind his head, to apply pressure and force to each blow.

Outside in the room, the rocks the demons had lazily shoved in the hole begin to shift and fall out, knocking over the boxes. A loud crack comes from the hole, followed by the bottom of a Cuban heeled boot, poking through a hole in the bottom of the coffin shaped box. Murdoc begins kicking with the other foot, making the whole bottom of the coffin break away completely. The old man raises his head again, and smiles at the light creeping in through the now open bottom of the box. He wriggles his way down, until finally his feet touch the floor, and then slides out the rest of the way, squeezing his shoulders through the bottom of the box. Dropping onto his buttocks on the floor with a huge sigh of relief, he raises his hands high above his head, and stretches out his muscles, twisting his spine one way, then the other, cracking it loudly. Dropping his hands lazily down into his lap, he looks over his shoulder at the hole in the wall. Curious, he pulls himself to his feet and tips his head to his shoulder, reaching into the hole and pulling out the box for a closer look. It slides out easily and drops to the floor with a crunch, he almost bursts out laughing at the sight of it, and cannot help but wave it off with an aloof grin.

A coffin, are those morons kiddin' me? Yeah fuck wits, I read that Anne Rice novel as well. Mind you, unlike the idiot in the book, I got out without help, heh, heh. He smirks with a confident chuckle. Reaching into his back pocket for his now crumpled cigarettes, he slides one from the pack, and sits down on the lid of the coffin. Placing the cigarette between his dry cracked lips, he lights it up and inhales deeply, closing his eyes and savoring its taste.

Much further away, along the corridors and passageways, Cortez and 2D stop and rest for a while. They had been asking some of the demons that passed them, if they had seen any sign of the bassist, and had been following any hints they had been given. Luckily they had net a few, that had been killed by him a few days earlier, so they had gone to the last place that particular demon had been, looking for any clues. Although this had made piecing together a path easier, there were a few gaps in the directions, making it difficult to keep working out the next direction to take, or path to follow. So taking a chance and guessing, they wander along hoping to meet someone else they could ask. 2D looks down at the floor by his feet and out of the corner of his eye, sees something glint in the dust. Curious, he moves over to it and feels around, pulling up a set of keys from the floor. One of the keys make his demon eyes flash brightly and he turns to Cortez, holding it up with a shark-toothed grin.

The key to the Winnie! he almost shouts happily. Cortez moves quickly over to him, snatching the key from him for a closer look. It's distinct skull shaped head with deep black eyes, makes the raven smile himself.

Si, thees ees the Winnie key. he chuckles, looking up and down the corridor, wondering which direction the keys owner had traveled after dropping it.

The impostor's desperate search for the keyboardist and the raven, combined with the many questions that had been making their way through the grapevine of Hell, about him taking the bassist's form, had finally reached Satan's pointy ears. Now the Dark Lord himself had been wondering what the huge demon had done, and why he had done it. Both of those questions he wanted answers to, and he wanted them now, regardless of whether or not, what the large demon was doing, happened to be somehow important. The impostor's friends had heard about Satan's curiosity, and had decided to distance themselves from him. They knew that if their involvement in his schemes were discovered, they as well as him would suffer in the depths of Oblivion forever. Deciding to help themselves by catching their huge demon friend, and bringing him personally before their Lord, to lessen the odds of being labeled as traitors. Now with Satan's personal guard and his traitorous friends looking for the huge impostor demon, and everyone in Hell looking for the bassist, the raven and the keyboardist, it would not be too long before someone would find himself standing before the Dark Lord.

Feeling a little better, but annoyed at being completely sober, Murdoc searches the boxes in the room, hoping to find something alcoholic to drink. Unfortunately he finds nothing of the kind, so he steps back out into the corridor and carefully makes his way along, continuing his search for Satan's portal. Turning the corner at the end, he sees a strange carving on the wall and stops, looking hard at it. His mind almost seems to scream at him, telling him there was something familiar about it, so he steps forward and scratches at the stubble on his chin.

I know that.... he mumbles, pointing at it. Slowly a memory forms, growing brighter and brighter in his fuzzy hung over mind. Suddenly he snaps his fingers and punches the air in triumph, realizing that of course he knew what the carving was. He studies the carving a little more, then quickly turns left and races down a passageway as fast as he can. Sliding around the corner at the end and bursting into a room, he falls to his knees and drops his head back on his shoulders, raising his outstretched arms high over his head.

Hallelujah! Err, I mean Hail Satan, the old pointy bastard. I've found it! He cheers. Satan's private wine cellar. He crawls to one of the many shelves on all fours, and lays his hand down on one of the bottles, almost as if making sure that he was not imagining the sight. Satisfied it was certainly no illusion, he pulls himself to his feet and walks down one of the rows, making his way toward the back wall of the long room. At the end of the row, he reaches out and takes one of the bottles from the shelf, caressing it as if was a beautiful woman, and holding it up to his cheek. The cool glass makes him tingle with anticipation and he slowly makes his way over to the back wall. Turning and leaning his back against the stony wall, he lets himself slide down it to the floor, uncorking the bottle with his teeth and sculling the contents loudly, hardly taking a breath between swallows. Finishing the bottle, he lays his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, deciding that he would forget about the portal, and just stay put for a while.


	12. Hells Bells

With the Winnie's key now safely tucked away in the backpack, 2D is feeling much more confident that he and Cortez would find the old bassist, as he moves much more rapidly through the corridors and caverns. Much time has passed, and he is sure that if he does find him, it may not be a happy reunion. Given that the old man probably had not had a cigarette or a drink in the whole time he had been down here, Murdoc might beat him to a pulp for taking so long. The labyrinth of passageways almost seem to go on forever, but with help from others, he feels he is closing in on him. Cortez follows behind, his smaller legs finding it hard to keep up with the lanky keyboardist. He looks up ahead of him, just in time to see that 2D has disappeared from view and annoyed that he had not waited for him to catch up, he quickens his pace a little, muttering obscenities under his breath, as he watches the dust kicked up from the floor move like a heavy cloud around him.

He rounds a corner and almost crashes straight into the young man, who had stopped just out of the ravens view, and is now staring at a strange carving on the wall. The young man looks down at the raven, then back up at the carving, pointing at it while wrinkling his nose almost as though disgusted.

"Wot's that ugly fing yah fink?" he asks Cortez. The raven rubs the back of his head in annoyance at 2D's odd decision to start questioning Satan's décor, before looking up at the thing the young man was pointing at.

Grey in color, about the size of an A4 piece of paper, and possibly made of rough granite, the carving almost looks as though it has grown out from the wall like a hard stony cancer. Looking a little like a large, unfinished Egyptian cartouche, turned on it's side and covered in strange markings, that swirl across the face of the stone like odd pathways that seemed to go no where. 2D looks at it puzzled, tipping his head slowly first to one shoulder then back again to the other, as he sucks thoughtfully on the tip of one of his long talons. Thinking that it was possibly a child's drawing that had got lost and had turned to stone on the wall, he takes the talon from his mouth and looks down at the grumbling raven, opening his mouth to say something to him, then changing his mind, he shakes away the thought and begins sucking the talon again with a shrug. Cortez turns away from the carving and looks down the corridor, wishing the keyboardist would just ignore the thing on the wall, and get on with the task at hand.

"I don't care." he snaps, waving it off. Suddenly something clicks in his mind and he rapidly turns back to it, studying it hard. Slowly the raven searches his mind, as memories of Murdoc teaching him some of the symbols from his books, come flooding back to him. In his mind he can see the bassist, his arm around him, pointing out each of the letters and repeating them to him. The memory is so clear to him, that he can almost smell the heavy scent of alcohol, sweat and cigarettes coming from the old man, and feel the warmth of his arm around him. He shakes his head and focuses on the sound of Murdoc's voice, as one by one the letters from the strange alphabet loom up before him, waiting to be deciphered, as the raven mumbles them to himself. "Eet writing. Eef I can remember, I might be able to...." he trails off as he runs his fingers over each of the symbols, and continues piecing the strange language together.

"Able to wot? I just asked wot yah fought of it." 2D shrugs, not realizing the importance of his find. He sighs deeply and slowly paces out a large stiff legged circle, not paying any attention to the muttering raven. Cortez shushes him with a sharp hiss, trying to think, looking down at the floor and rubbing his temples in frustration. 2D stops pacing and instead looks up at the ceiling, as the raven once again begins studying the carving.

"C... E... L... L..." he slowly spells out, pointing at each symbol as he says it's name. 2D tips his head to one side and wrinkles his nose, staring hard at the hideous carving as he sounds out the letters to himself. A word clicks in his mind and he pulls away from the wall, almost surprised.

"Cell, where?" He asks, looking rapidly around him for the dungeon. "Wait, I fought you said I woz silly for finkin' there might be cells down heya." He suddenly snaps, leaning his weight on one hip and angrily folding his arms over his chest, as he looks down at Cortez. Once again the raven shushes him, as he continues studying the carving.

"I teenk that one ees A, and R. Cellar." Cortez finally answers brightly with a nod. 2D and the raven suddenly stare wide-eyed at one another and in unison repeat the word loudly, before the raven looks back at the carving, doing his best to decipher the directions.

"Hurry! He's gotta be there, coz Muds would neva pass up free booze." 2D squeaks, bouncing from one foot to the other eagerly. The raven waves him back angrily as he tries to concentrate, then races down the corridor in front of the young man, following the directions he had just memorized. Counting the doors as they go along, Cortez moves quickly down a long passage, and turns left at the end, once again counting the doors, before coming to a complete stop. 2D, who had been following him a little too closely, crashes into him, almost knocking him over. The raven turns and slaps out at the young man, making him flinch back and away from him with a yelp. Regaining his composure, Cortez clears his throat and partially opens the door, carefully poking his head in, and looking inside. Suddenly 2D bursts in beside him, slamming open the door all the way, and looking about the room rapidly. The raven slumps his shoulders and sucks his teeth in annoyance, grumbling to himself about the possibility that the room might have been guarded, and they would have been caught now. Fortunately the room seems empty, apart from the many rows of shelves, stacked high with bottles.

Closing the door behind them, the companions stand silently just inside the doorway, savoring the shock of cool air that is moving around their tired aching bodies. They breathe slowly, with their heads tipped back on their shoulders, eyes closed, glad to of gotten away from the heavy boiling air from outside. For a moment, all thoughts of their lost bassist seem forgotten, and they roll their shoulders and massage their muscles, taking their time before recommencing the search. Feeling much better, they each choose one of the rows, looking down it into the darkness at the very back of the room, and slowly walk along squinting in the dim light. Just up ahead of him, 2D sees something against the back wall, he squints a little harder, trying to make out the lump, as he carefully approaches it. Thinking at first it was either a small pile of sacks or perhaps someones lost laundry, he stops suddenly when he realizes that he can clearly see a leg poking out from it. Taking a much more cautious step forwards he moves in, reaching out an unsteady hand to the lump, not sure whether he should touch it. Finally standing over it, he can see who the leg belongs to and nudges it with his foot. It groans, bringing a huge smile to the young man's face.

"Found him!" 2D calls back to Cortez, pointing down at the bassist as he turns and looks back at the shelves. The bassist slowly opens his eyes, smacking his lips sleepily and lifting his head from the cold hard floor. He sits up with a grunt, his head lolling lazily forward on his shoulders, then back again, almost connecting with the wall behind him, as he tries with just a little effort, to look up through his blurry vision at the medium sized demon above him. Just beyond him, the bassist also sees the smaller one making its way over to them. He yawns and stretches, waking himself more and scratching the back of his head with one hand, as he rubs one of his eyes with the other, annoyed at being woken so sharply.

"Oh Hells Bells. Can't a guy get some sleep around here." he growls angrily, pressing his hand against the back wall, and using it as leverage to pull himself to his feet. "Well c'mon then." he grins, urging them forward as he crouches for an attack. Cortez stops moving instantly, recognizing Murdoc's attack posture, but seeing that 2D has not moved back and out of the way of him, realizes that Murdoc will go for the keyboardist first. He raises his hand, trying to attract the young man's attention, just as he sees Murdoc's entire body tense.

"No Murdoc!" he cries out vainly, but too late, as the bassist launches himself at the unsuspecting young man. The weight of the bassist against him, slams the keyboardist hard to the floor. The young man gasps in shock, suddenly finding himself pinned and being punched viciously and repeatedly in the kidneys, he groans and tries to curl into a ball and roll away. Murdoc jumps up, bristling with renewed vigor and expecting the medium sized demon to follow, as a punch like that normally would of hurt, but done little more than annoyed it. He shifts his weight from side to side, grinning evilly, still crouched in the attack posture and waiting for the medium demons next move. However, when it does nothing but whimper and stay curled in a ball, he stands up confused and scratches the back of his head. Suddenly Cortez leaps onto the bassist's back, trying to stop the old man from killing the injured keyboardist.

"Murdoc, eet us!" he cries at the confused bassist. The old man stumbles but manages to stay upright, reaching back behind him and grabbing what he thinks is a small minor demon, pulling it up over his head. "We transformed!" the raven squeals, as he is suddenly dropped onto the old man's boot and kicked back through the room to the door the two companions had entered by.

"Wha?" the old man grunts, finally stopping his attack. He looks back at the crumpled 2D, curled into a tight ball, lying on the floor where he had fallen. The bassist slowly rises from his crouch and blinks at him in confusion, not quite sure what he was being told, or whether to believe anything the medium demon was saying.

"We changed ourselves into demons, so we wouldn' get caught." 2D moans, still clutching at his painful side. The bassist raises an eyebrow and approaches the young man, who on seeing him, whimpers and curls into a tighter ball, covering his head with an arm for protection. "Please stop hittin' us." He pleads.

The bassist suddenly recognizes the whimpering sound, as belonging to 2D, and chuckles, but instantly his face changes to a look of horror, as he realizes what the keyboardist had asked. _ 'Please stop hittin' us.' _He sharply turns his head, cracking the bones in his neck and looking down towards the door and the little demon he had kicked.

"Cortez!" he screeches, breaking into a run and racing to the crumpled body of the little demon. He slides to a stop, and falls to his knees next to the little creature, picking up the limp body and cradling it in his arms. "Oh what did I do to yah mate?" he whimpers, pressing it's head into his chest and bowing over it, rocking back and forth. The tiny body slowly begins to move against him, and a groan escapes its lips, the old man releases his tight grip and looks down at the creatures face, watching as it slowly regains consciousness. The raven winces in pain and opens its eyes, blinking back the pain and looking up into the face of his master. He smiles and snuggles against him, as the old man once again presses his beloved pet close to him, secretly wiping a rogue tear from the corner of his eye on the back of his hand.

"Eet okay. Only bruise my ego." the raven chuckles softly, pretending he had not seen the watery expression in the old man's eyes. The bassist quickly pulls himself together, and sits back on his heels, glad he had not seriously hurt the raven, but irritated with what he had done nonetheless. It suddenly strikes him that the raven had spoken, and he leans back away from it suspiciously, giving it a firm look.

"So you can speak now?" he growls, narrowing his eyes threateningly. The raven senses the uneasy tension in the bassist's voice, and sees the renewed threat in the bassist's face, knowing instantly that he must answer quickly, before the old man assumes it to be a trick and attacks him again.

"Si. That 2D do someteeng, but we no know what. You know how he ees?" he shrugs, rolling his eyes in frustration and feigning an aloof yawn, doing his best to put Murdoc at ease. He watches the hard look soften and feels the tension in the old man's body relax, and almost sighs gratefully, realizing that his ruse had worked. The bassist looks up and over at the young man, who had started limping towards them both. On hearing what the raven had said, he stops and looks angrily at him, then sees the firm look on Murdoc's face and softens his expression nervously.

"Hey, I didn' do it on purpose or nufink. He made me do stuff wot I didn' wanna do. Been killin' demons and all that since I got heya. Not s'pose tah kill..." He whines backing up a little, in case the bassist decided to hurt him for any harm, that he might be imagining the keyboardist had done to his pet. Murdoc looks down at Cortez who simply nods back at him.

"Si, he one mean hombre when you put a weapon een hees hand." Cortez chuckles with a wink, snuggling deeper into the old man's chest. Murdoc smiles and chuckles back, looking over at the still nervous young man, who moves uneasily from side to side, shifting his weight on his feet. He narrows his eyes at the keyboardist and licks his lips almost hungrily at him.

"So what happened to you bein' a Buddhist then?" he sneers, grinning like an evil Cheshire cat with his eyes sparkling like diamonds in the dimly lit room. 2D looks back at him almost shocked, dropping his hands limply to his sides, at first not able to speak. He makes a few odd squeaking noises, as he desperately tries to find the words, pointing and waving his arms frantically in a rush of unrestrained gestures, almost pacing in frustration at the two of them seated on the floor, laughing at his plight. Finally he stops and slumps his shoulders, letting out a huge huff as he comes to the conclusion that he is thoroughly defeated by the bassist's question.

"Shuddup." He whines. "I only did wot that crazy bird told me tah do. He wouldn' listen when I told him I woz a Buddhist, said he didn' care an' that." he adds gruffly, pouting and folding his arms over his chest, watching the two of them smirking at him and trying, with much difficulty, to stop laughing. But it's useless to argue with them both, 2D knows that now that Cortez had Murdoc back, he was once again on the outside looking in. The two of them bound together like thieves, had no reason to listen to any complaint he might have, or excuse. He sighs heavily and does his best to ignore them, staring at the wall and letting himself zone out to another place, just for a little while.


	13. The road ahead

Now together with the bassist, remaining in demon form so that it looks like they have captured him, Cortez and 2D make their way back to the transfer circle, guided by the blinking light from the keyboardists bracelet. As they walk along, the raven fills the old man in on the events that had lead up to their meeting. The old man listens intently, a little surprised that his pet felt that the young man had done a reasonably good job, not only when it came to summoning and spells, but also fighting and dispatching demons as well. However, Murdoc being Murdoc, he is unwilling to praise 2D for any reason, so instead he turns to Cortez and smiles at him, telling the raven what a good job he has done teaching the keyboardist. Then he laughs, and joke about possibly having to use a whip to keep the young man awake.

"I deed weesh we have one when that dinosaur appear." the raven remarks wide-eyed, shuddering a little at the memory of the large creatures teeth. Murdoc stops laughing and turns to the bird in astonished confusion.

"The what?" he gasps, then thinking it might still be a joke, he suddenly begins laughing again. Cortez smiles and giggles himself. Sullenly walking behind them, 2D lifts his eyes from the floor, and grits his teeth angrily because they were still finding reasons to laugh at him.

"That weren' my fault. It just kind'a appeared." he moans grumpily, but then shakes his head and looks back down at the floor, knowing it would not make any difference to the two of them. Murdoc stops walking and wrinkles his crooked nose in a combination of disbelief and amazement, looking from the raven to 2D and back again. The young man slightly raises his head and looks at the old man from behind a veil of annoyance and fear. For the last twenty or so minutes, he had dragged his heels as he walked faithfully behind the bassist, feeling like the proverbial third wheel in Murdoc and Cortez's plans. Now it seemed that Cortez was determined to tell the bassist that he had been wrong about his abilities and state of mind. Although peppered with mistakes, he had succeeded in rescuing him. It felt good hearing it, but how Murdoc would take the idea that he had made a mistake. It seemed obvious to 2D, so why Cortez could not see it, was beyond him. Either way, the young man knew that Murdoc was going to snap and fists would fly, not at the bird of course, but him certainly. He wanted to tell the raven to shut up, but that would make the bassist snap sooner, so he lowers his eyes to the floor again, and hopes that perhaps Murdoc is too tired to loose his temper.

The raven explains that the dinosaur had appeared after the keyboardists first few attempts at demon summoning, obviously due to his lack of experience. The old man listens quietly with a huge grin on his face, but every now and then turns his eyes and gazes coldly at the young man, before looking back at the bird. He bursts into a gale of laughter when he hears Russel's response to the unwelcome visitor, how the large man had blamed the impostor for it being there, and the accusation that it was there merely to annoy him. The cold expression seems to lift from the old man's eyes for a moment, as the bassist doubles over, slapping his thigh and gasping for air. He finally stops laughing and stands upright, wiping a happy tear from the corner of his eye. 2D watches his face for any sign of change, but it seems that this story had indeed cheered the old man up. He smiles at him, and decides to join in.

"I called him Jerry, and Russel finks he ate the polar bear." he adds with a huge grin. The bassist looks over at him and starts laughing again, only this time with a little more control.

"Jerry ate the polar bear?" Murdoc chuckles with a strange grin. 2D half nods, half shrugs in response. Murdoc turns his head and waves it off with a grin, checking the path ahead and behind them to be sure they were still alone. "No real loss. I hope it ate that idiot crocodile as well." The keyboardist tips his head to his shoulder and taps his bottom lip, thinking. Slowly he begins to shake his head, until finally he looks back at Murdoc with an exaggerated shrug.

"I don' fink so? I can' remember." he answers. Murdoc's smile flickers and slowly fades, as he looses interest in the story. Shoving his hands deeply in his trouser pockets, the old man grunts and continues on to the circle, a heavy tension building in the air around him. 2D slowly follows after him, wondering if perhaps Cortez was right in trying to show the old man, that he was more than just singing, keyboards, melodicas, and pain medication. He catches up and takes the bracelet from his wrist, handing it to the bassist. Murdoc walks along, turning the object over in his hands, not showing any clear sign of how he felt about 2D's effort. He eventually hands it back and dryly asks the young man how he had made it. Delighted that Murdoc seemed interested, 2D smiles and begins to answer, but before he even begins his story, realizes that he has once again been defeated by his poor memory. Embarrassed, he grimaces and turns to Cortez for help. The raven sees the pleading look in the young man's eyes and slumping his shoulders in exasperation, begins to answer for him. Murdoc once again stops walking and slits his eyes, slowly turning his head to stare hard at the bird, who on seeing the look, falls instantly silent, then turning it back to look at 2D.

"I don't remember askin' Cort how you made it." he snarls viciously. 2D flinches at the tone and rubs his arm nervously. "You fergot how you made this, didn'cha?" he adds, gritting his teeth and hissing at the young man in disgust. He shoves the bracelet back at the young man, thumping it into his chest and pressing him back away from him. Cortez looks nervously at the old man, and sees what a huge mistake it had been to start the conversation. He had originally wanted to merely show Murdoc how he and the keyboardist had worked together to save him, not to mention, give the bassist a bit of a mood lift. However, in his haste, he had failed to see the warning signs and had taken it too far. The raven thinks quickly and tries to pull Murdoc's anger back to a dull roar. He tries as best as he can, to explain that it had originally been 2D's idea to save him, and he had insisted on doing it alone. Maybe if Murdoc sees how important 2D thought he was to him, the bassist would be impressed and they could continue making their way to the circle. Too late Cortez sees the mask of fury, and suddenly his words turn from praise to insult in his mind. He mentally kicks himself and knows that he has just made things a thousand times worse. Backing up slowly, he drops his gaze to the floor, and breathes a silent apology to the young man. Murdoc rounds on 2D in almost, a blind fury, jabbing him sharply in the chest with a long filthy talon.

"Who the fuck are you, to think that I need help from a half-wit like you? You can't even remember how to tie yer shoes without a diagram. How you somehow managed to find me, I wouldn' have the foggiest, but I will bet all the porn I own, that it was Cort's doin', not yers! If I wanted out of this place, I could of done it on my own. I didn't need you, or yer ridiculous Superdolt dreams, comin' down here and interferin' with my plans. I was doin' well enough already. I am in my element you know! So why don't you take yer fucked up ideas, and go kill yerself! It'll save me havin' to do it later, and be the best idea someone else, ever gave you!" the bassist screeches, then snatching back the bracelet, storms away down the passage, leaving the shaking keyboardist, and the stunned raven behind him.

"He no keel you?" the raven splutters almost silently. "Must be tired." he answers himself, and quickly runs to catch the old man up. In his mind, the raven makes the mental note to never again suggest to the sociopathic bassist, that he ever needed anyone, especially 2D, to help him. Better to leave the illusion that 2D was useless, and Murdoc was the only one in the entire world, who had the ability to help him. An idea that the bassist had been fostering, since he had first met the young man.

"Awww, why does he always make me feel like a useless sack of..... wait? Superdolt?" 2D whimpers, slowly uncurling from his protective ball. He thinks about it for a few seconds, before realizing he was now alone and starts running to catch up to them both. Eventually he does catch them and keeping a safe distance behind, the young man listens to the faint sound of the old man grumbling and swearing obscenities about him under his breath. Slowly 2D's anger begins to build at what the bassist was hissing.

"'Ave no idea why I bloody bothered rescuin' yah meself, yah smelly old fart." he mumbles back. Cortez, who had been silently walking beside the old man, suddenly turns his head and looks back at 2D, then looks across to the grumbling Murdoc, hoping that he had not heard what 2D had just said.

As the trio are about to enter a large cavern, Murdoc hears someone talking just up ahead. Stopping suddenly, he reaches back with his arm and swipes his hand through the air, hissing at his two companions to be quiet. Cortez and 2D freeze to the spot as Murdoc continues to listen, and when it becomes obvious to him that the voices where getting closer, the bassist turns and shoves 2D toward the wall of the cavern, hiding them all in the shadows, as the demons close in on them.

"And you're sure you got the old bastard?" one of the voices asks. Straining to look through the darkness, Murdoc suddenly catches sight of a huge Major demon, as it steps from the shadows ahead of him, into a more brightly lit part of the cavern. He clenches his jaw and moves closer back against the wall, watching the major demon, surrounded by a small group of medium sized ones, make its way towards them. The large demon looks down at his companions, waiting for an answer to his question. One of them smiles sweetly and pats him on the arm.

"Oh yeah. We grabbed him, beat him up, and shoved his wrinkly arse in a box." it smiles, carefully encircling the major demons arm with his own and trying, without force, to lead the demon from the cavern.

"And buried him in the wall, just like you said." Another adds, taking the major demon by the other arm, assisting his friend.

"Yeah, so he shouldn't be a problem to anyone anymore." replies another. It presses its hands into his back and tries to move the demon forward. "And the best part is that Satan heard about it, and knows it was all your idea." It adds. The major demon stops moving and turns sharply on them all.

"What?" It splutters, looking from one to the next. They stand in front of him, shushing him and gently trying to calm him down, looking nervously around them, hoping no one had heard them.

"No, it's okay. He was really impressed, and reckons you did a great job." One of them adds with a sweet smile, the others nodding pleasantly behind it. The huge demon tips his head slightly, slitting his eyes, not sure if they were telling the truth or not. They sense his caution and step forwards, taking him gently by the arms again and leading him to the mouth of the cavern.

"Yeah, and he said he was gunna promote you to second seat. So yah haffta get there, before someone claims it was them and not you. You know how conniving people are down here. They'd steal the wings from yah back if you stopped paying attention long enough." The huge demon puffs his chest out with pride, and walks confidently in front of the small group. They smile at each other slyly, and follow him from the cavern. Slowly Murdoc steps away from the wall, watching them depart until they disappear from view.

"Moron. Yer an idiot if you believe that shit." he grunts with a grin. 2D steps away from the wall and stands next to the bassist, squinting in the direction they had gone.

"Whaddya mean?" he mumbles, finally looking at the bassist. Murdoc grabs the backpack on 2Ds back, and yanks him around to stand in front of him. He opens the pack and rummages around inside it, taking out the bottle of Scotch and spinning off the top.

"Don't be daft dullard. Can'cha see what that lot just did?" he growls, tipping back his head and guzzling the gold liquid down his throat. 2D shakes his head silently, trying to look over his shoulder at the bassist. The old man wipes his mouth with his arm and lets out a sharp frustrated sigh, pausing to check the level of Scotch left in the bottle. Cortez smiles as he watches Murdoc relax, and slip back into his typical dominant posture with the confused young man. The raven sighs with relief, and can feel the heavy threatening cloud lift from the small group.

"That was the eempostor, I could feel eet. Not that matter, coz those other Diablos just lie to heem. They probably hees amigos or someteeng." Cortez replies, answering for the old man. Murdoc gives 2D's backpack a nodding shrug, and takes another swig from the bottle.

"Yeah, and his arse is goin' straight to Oblivion. Best place fer the fucker really." the bassist adds quietly with a grin.

"That woz the who?"2D asks, slightly turning and looking down at Cortez. The raven explains as Murdoc finishes the bottle, and rummages around in the backpack for one of the two bottles of wine he had taken from Satan's wine cellar. He looks down at the new bottle in his hand, as he tosses the empty one over his shoulder, letting it smash on the wall behind him.

"How did all that demon, get inside that little body?" 2D suddenly splutters in astonishment. Murdoc snaps his eyes from the bottle and growls softly at the back of the keyboardists head.

"That'll be enough of that little shit. Ain' nuthin' little about me." he cups himself, and slaps the flap of the pack closed, roughly zipping it closed and shoving 2D forwards and away from him. "Satan don' like anyone risin' above their station, and makin' decisions fer him. You can't think fer yerself down here. It makes the old fucker look like a twat, and he don't like that." Murdoc continues to press 2D forwards, and into the direction the blinking bracelet indicated. Stiff legged for a moment, 2D relents, allowing himself to be pushed as he thinks about what Murdoc had just said.

"Oh." he finally replies, and relaxing his gait, walks more easily with Murdoc strolling casually along behind him, occasionally swigging from the wine bottle. Cortez walks beside the old man, sighing heavily in annoyance.

"That Diablo theenk much to high of heemself." the raven suddenly spits in disgust, thinking about the way it had reacted, and assumed it deserved a position that even the bird knew he was not worthy of receiving. Murdoc looks down at him slightly, and nods in agreement.

"The fact he trusted the words of demon, just shows he ain' worthy of second seat. I mean c'mooooon." Murdoc rolls his eyes and takes a large mouthful of wine from the bottle. He swallows hard and points at the raven, as though struck by an additional thought. "Annnnd he came back here. I mean, what sort of a moron is he? To go to all the trouble of settin' this whole scheme up, only tah come back here and get itself caught fer bein' too clever fer its own good. If I were it, I would of...." The old man and the bird suddenly freeze to the spot and slowly turn and blink at one another. In that precise moment, it is as if they can clearly read each others thoughts.

"Yer thinkin' what I'm thinkin', aincha." Murdoc grunts at the raven. Cortez nods his head slowly.

"Si. He set up transfer een Kong." the raven croaks back. Murdoc suddenly scoops the raven up in his arm and races after 2D, who had continued walking ahead and not noticed the two of them had stopped moving. Grabbing the young man hard by the upper arm, he yanks him along behind him, moving as quickly as he can toward their circle, determined to get back to Kong before the impostor.

2D complains bitterly that Murdoc is hurting his arm, unaware of the urgency of the situation. The bracelet flashes and pulses rapidly as they race along, flashing brighter and faster as they get closer to their goal. Finally the pulse becomes a steady bright light, indicating that they were standing directly over it. The bassist finally lets go of 2D and snaps at him to hurry up, as they all stand together in one spot. The bassist not trusting the keyboardists memory, performs the ritual and in a bright flash of light, suddenly the three find themselves back in the old dilapidated studio. Gently putting down his pet, Murdoc snaps at 2D to turn the two of them back to normal, while he goes off in search of the impostors circle. 2D nods and watches the old man run from the Hell hole room, still rubbing his now aching arm.

"Why's he in such a hurry? We're back now, so that's like the end of it, ain' it?" he mumbles at Cortez.


	14. All good things

Racing quickly from room to room around the dilapidated studio, Murdoc searches for the impostors transfer circle, until eventually there are only two rooms left to look in. With time rapidly running short, the bassist makes a quick decision and chooses one of them, pressing the door open and stepping inside. Just at that moment, he sees the circle and is about to walk across to it, when it flashes brightly and there before him stands the impostor, once again in the bassists form. It steps from the circle with a look of pure rage etched deeply into its face, swearing and spitting vile threats, as it balls its hands into tight fists. Murdoc rolls his eyes in irritation at the form it had once again taken, and leans against the door handle, smiling at the fact that it had not yet seen him.

"Awww, didja little friends piss on you." Murdoc pouts, feigning sympathy. The impostor snaps his gaze up from the floor and sees the sarcastic look of concern on the bassists face, quickly drop to an evil grin. Startled for a moment that the old man had found him, he freezes, not quite sure what to do next. However, his indecision soon melts away and the demon watches carefully, as the old man steps forwards into the room, stopping again just a short distance from him. Slowly the demon begins to circle the old man, looking for any sign of weakness or gap in his defenses, ready to attack and rid himself of the nasty green skinned Satanist.

Of course, catching Murdoc out the first time had been easy. The bassist had, had no knowledge of the demons true intent, and the Hell hole had done most of the work anyway. Now the old man was more than prepared, so he had to be especially cautious of any movement the old man made. He knew that Murdoc was certainly not the sort of person you could expect any forgiveness or mercy from, for any reason, much less for throwing him in a coffin and burying it in the wall of a store room somewhere in the depths of Hell. The evil glint in the corner of the bassist's eye, told the demon that whatever Murdoc had in his mind was a much worse fate than the one the demon had dished out to him.

Murdoc was a master of illusion, which was proved by the fact that no one would believe you if you told them that. He spent a large amount of time, giving everyone the impression that he was someone easily defeated. Almost all the demons in Hell, including Satan, knew that in truth behind the bassist's drunken swaggering foul mouthed manner, there hid a brilliant tactician, without a single shred of morality or concern. The last place anyone would dare put themselves, is between him and the thing he wanted most, as Murdoc would not have any difficulty cutting a direct path through them to get to it. It was no surprise that the only reason the demons plan had originally succeeded, was because of the bassists level of drunkenness. However, Murdoc had sobered up now. That brilliant gleam in his eye was more than just a plan to put the demon in his place. It was something worse, something almost homicidal, and the truth of the matter was that now that the impostor had lost the advantage of surprise, Hell was beginning to look like the best place to be.

Determined to at least make an attempt to beat the bassist, the demon continues circling carefully, watching those shining eyes, and cruelly twisted mouth, doing his best not to let the warning that they were pumping out to him shake him into backing down. Murdoc was silently putting out a clear message, not just to the impostor, but to all the demons in Hell, that what was about to follow, would make all the creatures of Hell quake in fear and terror. A cold chill trickles like a river down the demons back, settling in the pit of its stomach like a stone, and he does his best not to let Murdoc see his fear by clearing his throat with a chuckle.

"Oh you know how it is. You just can't rely on good help these days, and yer better off doin' most things yerself." he snarls in reply to the bassist's question, adopting his voice as well. Turning only his head as he follows the demons path around him, Murdoc keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the impostor, he nods in agreement and folds his arms over his chest, slumping his posture aloofly while remaining perfectly focused on the demon.

"Yeah, I getcha there. Too many idiots that don't know when there better off." He grunts back, and then resting his thumbs in the tops of his trouser pockets, the old man drops his weight back onto one hip and relaxes further into his slumped posture. Alarm bells go off in the demons brain, warning him to give up his plan and leave before Murdoc got bored and made the decision to end things quickly. His eyes dart quickly around the room, before once again settling on the yawning old man, trying to decide if he should take the warning seriously and run. Mentally taking a deep breath, the demon shakes off any idea of walking away, and continues trying to maintain his calm act in front of the bassist.

"Heh, heh yeah." He replies, his voice cracking under the strain of having to keep looking into Murdoc's intense cold eyes. Instantly wishing he had not sounded so weak, the demon smiles and swallows hard, hoping that the bassist had not noticed. The impostor watches Murdoc's face carefully and the way the bassist's smile seems to grow ever wider across his face, tells the demon at once that the old man had indeed noticed, and was highly amused by it, so the demon attempts to cover it up with a good lie.

"Ahem. Just a bit of a tickle in me throat there. Dust of Hell and all that, gets to me every time." He explains with a pleasant smile, jabbing a long talon down at the floor toward Hell. Quickly he returns his gaze to the old man's face, hoping to see any kind of sign that his ruse had worked, but is shocked when the bassist yawns loudly and relaxes even further into his slumped stance. Obviously it had not.

"Yeah right, Hell dust blah, blah. Course it's to blame. Anyway, are you ready to take yer punishment now, or do yah wanna keep pacin' a while longer?" Murdoc sneers, watching the demons pace slow almost to a complete stop. It finally stops and stares at him blinking, completely lost as to what to do next. Thinking quickly, it wonders if perhaps it could distract him with humor. If it worked, he might be able to get in the first strike and cripple him.

"Well actually, I was hopin' that if I circled long enough, you'd get dizzy and fall over. I could of killed you then and this would all be over." he answers dryly with a shrug. Murdoc chuckles at his answer, only slightly amused, and the demon searches for any opening in his defenses, but the old man's guard remains firmly in place, so the demon backs down.

"Still too sober fer that, but hey, good plan." the bassist sneers back sarcastically. The demon waves it off and tries to think of another way to distract him.

Outside the gray crumbling walls of the old concrete building, the night draws in and the air is heavy with the smell of rain. The clouds glide slowly across the dirty gray sky, steadily becoming darker with each passing moment, as a storm builds somewhere deep inside them. In the distance, a flash from just out of sight, that for a brief moment lights the land fill sky line brightly, a warning of what would soon follow. The wind builds in little puffs and gusts, which sweep around the corners of the building, dying down again, as if it had been merely testing the strength of its foundations. Not quite ready to unleash its full force against the huge obstacle in its way, the wind seems to pull back for a moment, before rushing at it again. Dark gray against the cloud laden background, Kong stubbornly refuses to crumble at its effort, the broken walls creak and groan but do not seem ready to completely collapse, as if they are waiting for a cue from some unseen hand, before the building finally collapses in on itself and reveals all that lay beneath it. The wind whistles around the corner again, a ghostly howl whipping up against the walls as the wind wails at being ignored, complaining at its resistance and pressing harder against it, demanding that it give in and fall before it. Still the building remains defiant, leaving the storm to build in strength and power, in the hopes that once unleashed upon the concrete walls, it will finally have its way.

"That looks nasty." 2D mumbles to the raven on his shoulder, pointing out the window to the building storm outside. The raven looks but shakes his head slowly.

"Si. But eet the storm eenside we have to worry about." Cortez answers. The keyboardist slumps his shoulders and bows his head in defeat.

"Awwwwww, I can still understand you." He moans, realizing he had not quite turned the raven back to normal. Cortez tips his head to his shoulder, thinking, before finally looking down toward the young man's face.

"You know, I no feenk I mind. Eet much easier dees way." He replies, looking back up and out the widow toward the storm. 2D brightens and looks around awkwardly at the raven on his shoulder.

"Really? Oh, well that's a good fing then, ain' it." He chirps happily, and with that turns and walks down the corridor to the toilets, continuing his search for the bassist and the impostor.

By the time the keyboardist and the raven find them, Murdoc and his doppelganger have resorted to crude hand gestures and insults, each trying to annoy one another into dropping their guard. The first thing 2D notices is that it seems that Murdoc is shouting at himself, and he smiles in amusement, turning to say something about it to Cortez. Seeing how intently the raven on his shoulder, is studying the two Murdoc's, the young man decides to keep it to himself, and watches them, hoping to work out which one was theirs. A few seconds later, Cortez nods confidently and leans toward 2D's ear, whispering to the young man which Murdoc, was which. Murdoc looks over and smiles at his beloved pet, carefully moving his hands, and making a secret gesture with them. The raven studies the movement and instantly understands what the bassist is suggesting. The impostor had been far too busy maneuvering himself into a far better position, now it seemed that he had been ganged up on, and had not seen what the bassist had shown the bird. The raven whispers at 2D to move from the door, as Murdoc needed the impostor to move that way. The young man turns to question him, but the bird hisses at him, so he complies with a shrug. The demon looks rapidly at the moving keyboardist, and Murdoc instantly steps forwards as though about to strike. The demon steps back out of the way, moving toward the door and closing the gap 2D had just made, holding up an hand to defend himself against the advancing bassist. Murdoc smiles, because his plan has already begun to work, and decides to push the demon just a little further.

"Awww, c'mon. Doncha wanna play with me?" the old man mocks, pouting and feigning disappointment. The demon grimaces at the bassist, who drops his pretense with a grin and steps forwards again, forcing the demon to step one more time toward the door. Realizing his poor position, the impostor looks rapidly from the bassist to the raven, perched on the young man's shoulder, to the young man himself. It had been bad enough trying to keep Murdoc in sight, now with the other two to pay attention to, his chances of winning had dropped dramatically, and he needed more time to think of a way around all of this. He suddenly relaxes and smiles pleasantly at them all; Murdoc raises an eyebrow in surprise and drops his guard ever so slightly. Instantly on seeing this, the demon reaches behind himself and grabs the door handle, pulling open the door and dashing out it at full sprint, racing down the corridor to the other end.

"Shit!" Murdoc spits, instantly sprinting after him. Cortez takes off with 2D close behind him, looking up in time to see the demon slam open the door and disappear from view. Cortez catches the bassist as he is opening the door himself, and sprinting out it after the impostor. The raven listens intently to the hastily panted plan, and with a nod, zooms after the demon. He sees the impostor has run toward the cafe, and is closing on the door fast, so he swoops down in between the door and the demon, pecking at him and making it slide to a stop. It turns and scrambling on all fours, doubles back toward the lobby, just as Murdoc races into the room. The demon leaps to one side, arcing his body out of the way, as Murdoc moves to charge it into the wall, racing ahead of him as Murdoc stumbles a little and tries to regain his feet. The raven swoops up behind the impostor, pecking him between the shoulder blades, forcing it to run to the car park door and leap inside, slamming the door closed behind him. The raven flutters to a stop, and looks up as Murdoc bodily hits the door, pulling it open and racing inside.

"Nice one Cort!" the bassist calls with a smile, quickly giving him the thumbs up, as he runs to the door at the other end and pulls that open as well.


	15. El Diablo

Slamming the door to the car park open, Murdoc slides to a complete stop as he sees the demon racing to the hole in the wall, leading to the lift shaft. Cortez zooms ahead, swooping past the bassist and over to the hole, blocking the demon with a screech and clawing at his face and arms. The demon sees the bird and cries out, attempting to leap back out of the way, but instead stumbling awkwardly and nearly falling onto his buttocks. It swings wildly at the raven with it's arm, holding it's scratched face with its other hand, snarling and hissing ferociously at the bird, trying to swat it as if it were a mere insect. Murdoc sees this and grits his teeth angrily, tearing open the door of his wagon and reaching inside for a machete that he keeps under his table. In one swift movement, the bassist picks up the weapon from the floor and turns back to the demon, tossing the weapon directly at it. The weapon flies end over end at the angry creature, slamming into its shoulder and embedding itself deeply into the creatures flesh. The demon roars in shock and pain, swinging itself around and looking in the direction the weapon had come from, blindly reaching back and trying to pull the machete from its shoulder. Feeling that his job was done, Cortez flies back to the bassist, settling above him on the roof of the wagon, he turns and looks back at the struggling demon, a sly smile playing at the corners of his beak.

"Tag, yer it!" Murdoc jeers with a cold laugh, at the wounded demon. The demon winces in pain as he tries to pull the machete from his shoulder, but each attempt sends a shock of pain shooting through his shoulder, and down his right arm, like a bolt of electricity. The pain becomes so great, that the demon is forced to leave the weapon where it is, and now with the right arm dangling loosely on his shoulder, he stands there like a twisted, broken doll, staring across the car park at the evilly grinning bassist. Beaten down, he looks carefully back over his shoulder to the hole in the wall, while still trying to keep the bassist in eyesight. All he really wanted to do now, was escape back to the safety of Hell, and put all of this behind him. Facing Satan's wrath almost seemed easy at this point. He catches the way Murdoc nods at the talking raven, out of the corner of his eye and turns his head away from the hole to face the bird, that suddenly takes flight again, swooping back at him with a hideous screech.

"2D, help me get thees Diablo." The raven calls back to the dazed keyboardist. The young man looks around the corner from where he is hiding, and sees the angry wounded demon cowering from the nasty black bird. He winces, and bites a thumbnail nervously, not really sure he wants to go anywhere near the demon. A quick look at the snarling expression in Murdoc's face, tells the young man he had better do as he is told. So swallowing hard he leans down and picks up a small length of pipe from the floor, then charges almost blindly at the desperate creature. A sly half smile creeps up the corner of Murdoc's mouth, and he quickly steps up into the wagon, leaving his two companions to keep the demon preoccupied while he gets ready for battle.

The demon swipes at the raven with his good arm, while fighting back the pain from the machete still embedded in his shoulder, the weapon making it difficult for the demon to move rapidly in any direction. At the same time, the creature does its best to leap out of the way of 2D and his pipe, twisting itself around to fight the young man back. The keyboardist slices the pipe down toward the demons head, forcing it to leap back and try to swing at him with its good hand, its talons cut through the air like sabres, just inches from 2D's face. The young man sees how close they come to cutting him, and with a yelp, he pulls away, slipping on the car park floor and landing on his buttocks with a thump. The demon smiles, feeling he has at least beaten down on opponent, and moves in to finish the job, towering over the keyboardist like a hungry vulture. Cortez instantly swoops around and dives into the demons face, startling it and giving 2D enough time to crab walk backwards and out of striking distance, from the creatures cruelly clawed hands. Feeling the demons fingers close against his back, the raven flaps wildly and moving up toward the ceiling like a rocket, arcs his body gracefully and dives down again, straight toward the machete in the demons shoulder. Reaching out his clawed feet, Cortez grabs the handle while continuing at speed toward the ground. His body jerks violently as all momentum comes to a sudden stop, but the manoeuvre works. The jerking motion sends another shock of pain through the creature, and it tips it's head back, roaring in pain. Still screeching like a wounded animal, it drops to its knees, swiping back at the bird, trying to force it to let go of the weapon, but its efforts are met with sharp jabs and pecks from the ravens sharp beak. 2D sees how close the demon comes to actually putting its hand around the brave bird, and scrambles to his feet again, rushing in to try and protect him.

"Hey ugly, over here!" a voice calls from behind them. 2D and the demon look up, but Cortez continues pulling as hard as he can on the machete, wiggling it up and down and making the demon screech even louder in pain. Murdoc steps down from the wagon and gives a short sharp whistle, making Cortez suddenly look up at him. The raven sees the bassist hold out his arm like a perch and instantly lets go of the weapon, flying over to his master and landing gently on his arm. 2D quickly follows the bird, leaving the wounded panting demon to almost crumple in an exhausted heap on the cold car park floor. Oily black blood pours from the wound in it's shoulder, puddling on the floor at its feet. It hisses in pain and heavily panting refuses to remain on the floor like a beaten dog. Struggling to stand, it reaches back and braces itself against the back wall, staring angrily at the bassist and his talking raven. Murdoc calmly pets Cortez's chest feathers and whispers praise into his beloved pets ear, before lifting his arm and urging the bird back to its perch on the wagons roof, completely ignoring the demon's efforts at intimidation. Suddenly the demon spots what the old man has strapped to his back and startled, sucks a sharp breath, stumbling a little backwards into the wall behind him. The El Diablo, Satan's bass guitar. He splutters, lifting a shaking hand and pointing at the vile instrument, at first unable to speak anything but a garbled string of nonsensical sounds. Opening and closing his mouth like a dying fish, gulping air uselessly as he tries to make sense of what he is seeing. The bassist slides the instrument around and rests it carefully on his thigh, his eyes glinting like diamonds in the dim light of the car park, as he watches the demon quake in terror before him.

"No, no, no. You can't be serious." The demon finally splutters, hoping the bassist really is joking and just doing this to scare him. The bassist ignores him completely, plugging the bass into an amplifier that he has resting on the floor by his feet. The demon watches helplessly as the bassist steps forwards, flexing his fingers and slowly bringing them down to the first string, getting ready to play. He briefly looks up at the wounded creature, now looking like a small child wringing its hands and hoping that the bassist would somehow take pity on it. Smiling and giving the creature a cheeky wink, without any words having to leave his mouth, Murdoc answers that question with a clear and distinct no. The demon gulps and decides to ask regardless.

"Just a joke, right." Slowly it inches to the hole.

"Here we go then." The bassist growls and with a powerful down stroke hits the first string.

The air in the car park almost seems to heave, as though the room itself was getting ready to sneeze, making 2D lurch back and cover his ears with his hands. He dives for cover in the car park doorway, dropping to his knees and plunging his face down toward the floor in an effort to get away from not just the guttural roar of the guitar, but sensation of the air moving around him. It almost seems to be screaming at him, and if he did not know any better, he would swear there were a thousand tiny fists, punching him in the back. The raven dives away behind a box on the roof of the wagon, knowing the demonic force the guitar possessed was one thing, seeing it unleashed was quite another as far as the bird was concerned. Not wanting to either know, or inadvertently find himself targeted by it, he hides his head under his wing and braces himself. The demon is struck by a wave of power from just that one note; it slams bodily into him like a huge hand slapping him away from the safety of the hole in the wall. The demon shakes his head and looks around toward the bassist, almost in the desperate hope this was a warning, and all the bassist was going to do to him. Seeing the way the old man smiles and licks his lips makes the demon shudder, knowing indeed the bassist had not finished. In fact, he had barely started.

The bassist starts to pluck out a series of strange notes, strung together to form a deep growling tune, which shakes the very air around him. No bass guitar on Earth could possibly make the sound the evil guitar was making, and certainly none could do what this instrument was doing. Murdoc somehow seemed to know exactly how to play the beast in his hands, it almost felt as though his hands and fingers were being controlled by it, each string begging him to pluck and slap it in a particular way. He closes his eyes and lets his fingers dance on the strings, ignoring everything else around him. Wave upon wave of energy generated by the strange tune, slowly building around the bassist, then pulsing out from him, diving into the ground and heaving up the concrete floor, buckling it under the demon's feet. The floor first lurches one way, then the other, throwing the creature off balance and further away from the hole in the wall. The strange tune seems to almost be laughing, and growing faster and deeper as the bassist plays. Each plucked note growling like a hungry dragon, roaring and thumping its way through the car park to the howling demon. The floor suddenly leaps up like a bronco, catching the demon off guard and slamming him hard against the ceiling. Falling to the floor again, the demon hardly has enough time to acknowledge what had just happened, before the floor tosses him first left then right like a useless rag doll. The demon continues to scream and howl pitifully, trying desperately to be heard over the roaring sound, begging Murdoc to be reasonable and stop. The bassist does look up, his eyes glowing a deep blood red in the dim light of the room; he grins and slams the strings harder and faster, with no intention of stopping until he was satisfied.

Another wave booms out from the bass, and the floor lurches upwards violently, shaking the whole building, almost as though it had bee struck by a sonic pulse from Hell. 2D falls hard against the door frame; he rolls on his back and stares up dazed at the ceiling, his vision a blur of dazzling light and stars. The raven himself is caught off guard and almost slips off the Winnie's roof. On his back with his feet uselessly clawing at the air, the bird does all he can to upright himself. The demon slams into the floor again with a sickening thud, and feels the concrete rise up like a sheet of ice that had been tipped off balance. He desperately tries to grab at the top edge with his one good hand; it buckles like an ocean wave sliding down towards the ground again, then lifting and moving as though made of rubber.

A crack like the sound of thunder rocks through the car park, hitting the demon like a huge fist and slamming it bodily against the back wall. It awkwardly slides down to the floor in a daze and almost unconscious falls onto its side, panting and moaning. The bassist's tune changes pitch and tempo, now sounding more like a bear, sending out another powerful boom that tears across the floor and hits the demon full force in the chest, bouncing it off the wall again, and sending it hurtling through the air to land, about a meter from where it had been, with a horrible crunch. Gasping in pain, the demon curls into a tiny ball, whimpering like a terrified puppy.

Cortez peaks out from behind his box at the demon, and for just a moment, almost feels sorry for it. He knows that even now the old man had beaten him down, this was certainly no where near over. The demon was cactus and the bassist was ready for more. The raven shakes his head and moves back behind his box, not wanting to look at it any more.


	16. Stormy weather

Outside, the storm announces its arrival, with an almighty clap of thunder and a flash of lightning that is so bright, one could almost assume it was the middle of the day. The wind roars around the base of the Pazuzu statue, rushing towards the building as if it were a ferocious herd of angry rhinos, charging at it with all its might. The windows rattle in their frames, but still the building remains firm against the onslaught, refusing to be moved. The rain pours down in sheets, a great torrent of water that drowns the grass and runs down the driveway like an unstoppable river. The lightning flashes again, lighting up the Pazuzu and casting its eerie shadow against the wall of Kong. The shadow looms black against the wall, like an evil giant god. It's eyes almost seem to glow and for a moment it almost seems to move on its pedestal, flexing it's fingers and twitching one of its long pointed ears, as rivers of water pour down it's face, dribbling from it's chin onto its naked chest. Angry at the wind and the rain for its attempt to bring down the already crumbling building, that it had stood guard in front of for so long. The Pazuzu's chest seems to heave as if it had taken a breath, and it slowly lifts it's stony eyes toward the heavy rain clouds. The rain eases back a little, surprised at the evil statues awakening. Once again letting it's eyes fall back on the view it had looked out on since being placed there before Kong, the statue continues to wait. A silent sentinel over the ages, with it's hand held high, bringing the storm to a standstill. It's eyes begin to pulse with the power of the lightning, almost as if daring the storm to continue its barrage against the walls of the old studio. The wind seems to shudder as if thinking, before it finally dies away. The storm calms and begins to die away again, the rain slowing to fall in nothing but a gentle mist, as the clouds roll slowly away toward the distant horizon.

Inside Kong, Russel emerges from his room with his headphones clamped tightly to his heavy head. He hums along to the music as he lumbers toward the kitchen for a snack, bobbing his head as he goes. Unaware of the raging storm that had shook the building, and the goings on deep down in the car park, the large man continues on his way, glad for what he assumes to be the peace and quiet that had fallen upon the old studio.

The Pazuzu watches the storm die away, settling back into its crouched posture, once again solidifying into its now familiar pose. Above it the clouds part as though pulled apart by the unseen hands of a giant, and a bright beam of pale, almost blue, moonlight streams down from the sky. Creeping its way across the damp grass towards the base of the statue, Slowly it climbs up the pedestal, finally bathing it in its cool light. The Pazuzu seems almost to relax, looking out over the graveyard, and the horizon beyond.

Back down in Kong's car park, the fight, one sided as it may be, continues to rage. Like the jaws of a savage tiger, a gaping wound opens in the car park floor, tearing the concrete apart with an earsplitting roar, that seems to shake the whole building as though it were nothing but a mere dolls house. A deep purple, almost black light, pours from the wound and snakes along the ground towards the still huddles demon. It scrambles awkwardly to it's knees, and quickly crawls as fast as it can, still clutching it's wounded arm, trying to get away from the evil light. Murdoc licks his lips with glee at the sight of the petrified demon, and continues slapping out the bass line, urging the light forward closer and closer to it. Changing the bass line slightly, his fingers dance faster along the strings, and the guitar reverberates wildly. The sound ripples through the bass guitar, deep into his groin. He tips his head back on his shoulders and closes his eyes at the sensation, as a moaning sigh escapes his lips.

The sensation feels like the hands of a woman, sliding down his legs, slipping their delicate fingers between his thighs, one cupping his ball sack, while the other grips the shaft of his penis tightly. Just a little shocked, the old mans playing slows a little and the sensation dies away. Murdoc drops his eyes to the guitar, slightly annoyed with himself, and once again speeds his fingers across the strings, hoping to get the sensation back. It does, and with a satisfied grunt, the bassist smiles almost drunkenly, closing his eyes again, as the music seems to dance along his stiffening member.

The strings growl and pump the air, with the bassist now completely lost in its rhythm, an automaton functioning simply by the feeling of the music and no longer paying any attention to the demon or the room. From deep beneath the floor, a boulder slams up from the ground in front of the still cowering demon, throwing it backwards toward the heaving rift which hisses and growls, sucking the air from the room in an attempt to pull the demon down into it. The demon begins sliding across the floor, toward the hungry jaws of the rift. Reaching out with his good arm, the demon kicks hard at the floor with his feet, trying to push himself away from it, as he claws at the ground for something to hang onto. The demon looks back over his shoulder, just as his legs fall into the hole, finally his hand falls on something and he grips it with all his might, stopping his descent. Looking over at Murdoc, he screams out to him, trying to be heard over the roaring music and the screeching rift, begging him to stop.

"Are you insane? That's Oblivion." he screeches, jerking his head down toward the hole. Slowly Murdoc opens his eyes, but continues to play. Judging from the glazed expression, the demon realizes that either the bassist, cannot understand him, or simply does not care. An evil smile creeps across the old man's face, his lips curling up at the edges to form a cruelly twisted mask, answering the demons question. Yes Murdoc heard him. Yes Murdoc understood, and no he did not care. He slaps the strings faster, nodding slowly at the startled demon.

"But you can't." the demon whimpers like a terrified child. "You can't open that here, it'll destroy everything." The bassist laughs like a maniac at the suggestion, continuing to play at blazing speed.

"Everythin'? Now that would be insane now, wouldn't it." He roars back at the creature, his voice carrying easily over the noise. His eyes burn with fiery intensity as he gloats at the predicament of his victim. "But I'm not going to destroy everything. Just you, you stupid fuck!" With one last change in tempo, the room shudders violently, spasms rocking the walls and bringing down huge chunks of concrete and plaster from the ceiling, smashing around the car park and crushing cars. The demon screams in renewed pain and terror as the rift sucks harder at his body, the muscles in his arm and hand straining to maintain its grip. Finally feeling as though the muscle was tearing away from the bone, the demon begins to feel faint, and his vision blurs as sweat leeches into his eyes. With a last flourishing gesture, Murdoc hits the last string, and unable to hold on any longer, the demon looses his grip and falls. Screaming like a banshee he is instantly gobbled by the waiting rift, and disappears. Stumbling back a little on his heels, Murdoc shakes his head. Exhausted and spent, he rolls his shoulders and wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his arm. He smiles at how much quieter the hole had become and approaches it without fear, carefully leaning over the edge and looking down into its depths. He whispers something to it, giving it the thumbs up, then turns and walks away, back to the Winnie, as the evil rift growls a little and slowly closes behind him.

As Murdoc is about to step up into his wagon, he hears a soft moan from the doorway, and leaning back on his hips, spies the still unconscious keyboardist on the floor. He rolls his eyes at him and climbs inside to return the guitar to its hiding place, then returns to the young mans side. Leaning down, he scoops up 2D, heaving him onto his shoulder and walking back to the young man's room, muttering at how sick he was of babysitting him. He kicks open the door and walks inside, returning a few seconds later, pulling the door shut behind him. Cortez watches the last trace of Oblivion disappear and is surprised to notice that all trace of what had occurred, had also disappeared along with it. Murdoc walks slowly back to the Winnie, his shoulders slumped, breathing heavily as though standing up itself was exhausting for him. The bassist stops and looks up at his beloved raven with a smile.

"You right there mate?" he asks the bird. The black bird ruffles his feathers, and looks down at him.

"Si, I okay."

"Back to the typical bullshit then." Murdoc grins with a soft chuckle. Cortez flutters down, landing on his shoulder. He caws softly, behaving as though he were no different than any other raven, and almost seems to purr when the old man ruffles his chest feathers, stepping up into the wagon and pulling the door closed behind him.


	17. Cold light of day

The next morning, 2D wakes up sprawled awkwardly across his bed. He sits up wincing painfully and stretches out his spine. Rolling his head on his shoulders, he tries to wake himself up. Suddenly he remembers all that had happened the night before, and scrambles from his bed, tripping on the blanket and falling flat on his stomach on the floor. Groaning loudly, he curls up onto his knees, reaching back to his ankle blindly and unraveling the blanket from it. Getting back onto his feet, he makes his way to the door and opens it, poking only his head through the open doorway, and looking around the car park. To his surprise, it looks no different to how it normally had appeared. The floor is intact, with no trace of a hole having ever been there, and he sees no sign of the demon impostor at all. Confused, he pulls his head back into the room, and partially shuts the door again, shaking his head and wondering if perhaps he was mistaken. Opening the door and looking again, seems to change nothing. Still he sees no damage, or demon. More confused than ever, he walks across to where he had last seen the rift, and crouching down, runs his hand across the smooth concrete floor, with the thought that what he is seeing, may be an illusion. This does not seem to make any difference, so he stands again, scratching the back of his head. Shrugging his shoulders, the young man gives up and makes his way over to the Winnie, deciding to ask Cortez what had happened.

"Cort, are you awake yet? I fink I must'a fell or sumfink, and I dunno wot happened." He calls out to the raven as he approaches the wagon. The bird is sitting quietly by the scythe, out of the young mans line of sight; it slits its eyes angrily and with a ferocious squawk, swoops down at him ready to attack. 2D freezes to the spot for a moment, completely dumbfounded as to what he had done or said to upset the raven. He ducks to one side as the raven zooms past his ear, then watches as the bird arcs around for another run at him.

"Ah no! Cortez, wot are yah doin'? It's me, 2D. 'Ave yah gone mad or sumfink?" the young man screams, covering the back of his head to protect it from the ravens vicious beak. He races quickly to the car park door, pulling it open and dashing inside quickly. Slamming it shut, he bars the door with his hands and stands there panting, as he listens to the screeching raven clawing and pecking at the other side of the door. He takes a deep breath and tries to understand what had happened, but without a lot of information to go on, finds he is quite unable to decipher the birds angry reaction. Giving up, he turns and makes his way to the lobby desk, muttering to himself about how strange he felt Cortez was behaving.

A few moments later, 2D steps into the kitchen and sees Russel behind his usual food mountain, gnawing on a piece of chicken, and Murdoc at his usual end of the table, reading the racing guide and swigging Rum from the bottle. With a flinching smile, he walks around the table and sits down next to the bassist, watching the old man carefully for a moment as he tries to piece all the events together. Murdoc turns down the corner of the paper and looks past it to the young man beside him, but without a word ruffles the paper again and continues reading, deciding not to engage him in any 'unnecessary' conversation. 2D barely seems to notice his reaction; a glazed expression in his eyes, indicating his level of concentration. Finally shaking the daze away, 2D looks up at the old man and raises his hand as if to say something, but then changes his mind and lets his hand drop softly back into his lap. Russel stops chewing and looks at them both, not sure whether to say anything at all. He turns his attention back to the piece of chicken he is holding, turning it slowly and looking for another place to bite into. He hears the paper Murdoc is holding rustle loudly again, and looks up. Murdoc's blazing eyes are clearly visible over the top of the paper, and are firmly trained on the once again zoned out 2D. Chewing much more slowly, Russel waits to see how things would evolve between the two men. Taking another swig from the bottle, Murdoc looks back at the words on the page in front of him, trying hard not to let 2D's zoned out state get to him. However the words seem to be a blur, and his anger rises steadily with each passing second.

"Why did Cortez attack me?" 2D's voice suddenly filters through the newspaper to the old mans ears. Choking on the mouthful of Rum, Murdoc drops the paper and presses himself roughly from the table, his face red and unable to breathe properly. He slumps over, gripping the edge of the table firmly with one talon nailed hand, as he hacks and coughs toward the floor. 2D watches, suddenly overcome with nervous tension, not sure whether to stay for an answer, or leave before the bassist recovers. Murdoc suddenly clears his throat and raises his eyes slowly to the young man. Russel smiles a little, shaking his head.

"I would'a t'ought dat woul' be obvious man. Dat bird don' like you, or an'one else fo' dat matter." He quietly answers, looking briefly at Murdoc before taking another bite from the piece of chicken. 2D nods slowly, furrowing his brow as he thinks about what Russel had just said. However, realizing that the large American had not quite understood what he had meant, he lowers his eyes to the top of the table and shakes his head.

"Yeah, but we fixed fings and became friends. Y'know, coz of wot happened in Hell?" Suddenly thinking maybe he should not of said anything about Hell, 2D covers his mouth and smiles nervously. "No I don't mean that." Confusing himself more, he thinks about it a little longer and drops his hand again. "No wait, I do."

Russel stops chewing and raises a thick eyebrow at the young man, not sure what any of what 2D had said meant. He turns to Murdoc, who is looking at the young man almost as bewildered, and the both of them shrug their shoulders at one another.

"Hell?" They both ask, Murdoc not really sure he cares to know, but curious enough to make the inquiry. 2D looks up at both of them in turn, letting his sunken eight-ball eyes rest on the bemused old man.

"Yeah, Hell." Murdoc clicks his long snake-like tongue and picks up the paper again, deciding that 2D really had no idea what he was talking about.

"Friends." He chuckles softly. "Don't be daft dullard. Cortez has better taste than to be friends with the likes of you." Russel nods, and waggles the piece of chicken he's holding at 2D.

"So tell me mo' 'bout dis Hell deal?"

"Oh c'mooon." Murdoc drawls at Russel, lowering the paper again and grimacing at him. "Yer not takin' any of his idiotic fantasies seriously, are you?" Russel pulls away from Murdoc sharply, feigning surprise.

"Yeah I'm goin'a take it serious. It ain' every day some cracker walks in wit' some crazy shit 'bout Hell an' rabid ravens. If anyt'in' it migh' be summink good fo' my MySpace." He chuckles. Murdoc slowly lowers his paper into his lap and blinks slowly at the thought. Smiling at 2D, both men lean forward, planting their elbows on the table and resting their chin in their upturned palms.

"Tell us what happened in Hell 2D." They say to the almost now twitching young man. 2D takes a strong deep breath and looks firmly at Murdoc.

"I don't need tah tell you Muds, you were there." He says, almost annoyed. Russel turns and looks at looks at Murdoc, who licks his lips in glee at 2D.

"Oh was I? Well you'd think that would be summink to remember now, wouldn't you Rrrrruss." Murdoc grins, turning to Russel. 2D nods emphatically at him, then furrows his brow again.

"And Cort. I had tah kill some demons, coz you were possessed or sumfink, and there woz one demon who woz real angry wif yah, and he wanted tah kill me and Cort, or sumfink like that. I can' really remember now." 2D ends with a whimper, but remembering something else he smiles, and sharply sits forwards. "And then we woz in the car park, and you played yah bass and the car park broke, and I fink I hit my head?" Looking down at the floor, 2D rubs the back of his head, trying to remember something else that had happened.

"Soooo, I brought the house down. Eh? Eh?" Murdoc grins at Russel, trying to prompt the large man into laughing at his joke. Russel rolls his vacant eyes and looks down at his huge plate of food.

"I can' believe yah ach'ually said that man." He moans. Murdoc's smile drops savagely and he purses his lips in annoyance.

"Shuddup, like you could do better. Yah fat idiot." He hisses back.

"Satan wanted you. But I dunno wot for....?" 2D trails off. Murdoc and Russel look sharply back at him in astonishment. Russel smiles evilly and turns back to Murdoc, raising his hand as if about to speak.

"You dare and I promise you'll live to regret it." Murdoc interjects before Russel can speak. The large man lowers his hand again, a satisfied expression nestled firmly on his face.

"There woz sumfink else to, but I can' remember....?" Finally Russel has had enough, and his amusement changes to annoyance. He turns on Murdoc angrily, standing and leaning across the table. He reaches out a meaty paw and grabs him by the front of his shirt, lifting the bassist high out of the chair. Murdoc dangles in the air like a rag doll at first, surprised at his sudden situation.

"D'is is getting' wrong man. Wha' drugs you bin feedin' him?" Murdoc snaps him a shocked look, and starts to struggle to be set free.

"Wha? Why does it always have to be my fault!? I didn' do shit to him." He screeches, until finally Russel drops him to his feet. Murdoc hisses through his clenched teeth, pulling down his shirt and smoothing it. "The dolt has obviously dreamed it. What are you, stupid!?"

"Wot about Jerry?" 2D suddenly asks. Russel blinks in surprise and turns back to Murdoc, who is far too busy straightening his shirt to care what the Keyboardist had said.

"Dat's an in'trestin' question. Murdoc...?" Russel quietly says to Murdoc. Murdoc gruffly looks over at him.

"What!?" The bassist snaps back angrily.

"Why was dere a dirty great assed dinosaur, in the studio kitchen?" the large man quietly but firmly asks the old man. Murdoc rolls his eyes and folds his arms gruffly over his chest.

"Why else, but to annoy the shit out of you, yah fat arsed idiot." The bassist snarls, and with that, walks firmly from the kitchen, out onto the balcony.

Later that evening, Murdoc steps up into his wagon and heads down the aisle to his bed. He drops down onto it lazily, and opens a side drawer, rummaging about inside until his hand falls on what he is searching for. Cortez flies in through the open door, and swoops down the aisle towards his master, landing on the bed next to him. The raven snuggles up against the old man's leg, looking at the object in the bassist's hand.

"Why you look at that?" he asks the old man curiously. Murdoc ruffles the birds head feathers and smiles at him, looking down at the transfer bracelet in his hand.

"No reason mate, just makin' sure it was where I left it." He answers the bird, tossing the bracelet back in the drawer and closing it. The raven bobs his head in understanding, and moves out of the way as the bassist lifts his legs from the floor and drops them on the bed, laying back. Cortez smiles and flies back down the aisle to his favorite roost, on the back of the passenger seat.

"We never goeeng to tell heem, are we?' Cortez asks, as Murdoc nestles back in the bed.

"The less he knows, the funnier it is mate. Heh, heh." The bassist chuckles, and closes his eyes.

THE END.


End file.
